Shattered
by Crimson Coin
Summary: After "The Incident", Sawyer and Juliet wake in the real world, seperated and shattered in the aftermath without memories of the island.  Will they remember the powerful love they once shared, or will they wander lost to each other forever?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received a numerous requests to try my hand at an M rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. Do to this story's intensity, I will not be posting author's notes at the ends of each chapter so as not to break up the flow of the story. So Thank you all for reading and by all means, please review. I enjoy reading all of your thoughts.

* * *

Firm hands pulled him back from the edge of the abyss. He yelled, he cried out to whoever would listen as sorrow and loss exploded within him. He struggled against the hands, fought the persistent pull. He wanted the darkness. He wanted to dive down the shaft that swallowed everything he held dear. A slow tear stretched and ripped at his heart then filled with remorse, guilt, pain. The ache exponential; he wanted to die.

Death

He closed his eyes as a bright light exploded from the hole that swallowed his life, changing black to white and overwhelming him. The pain dissipated as the light consumed him, comforted him then quickly tore away in violent exit.

Sawyer slowly opened his eyes, staring up at the paint peeled ceiling in the room of a cheap motel. A strange unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed him, forcing him from peaceful slumber into a realm of agitated restlessness. No dream remained in his memory yet he still awoke, unsettled. A thin sheen of sweat beaded on his brow, his breathing shallow – the only signs of whatever dream he had.

His eyes scanned the room. Clothes scattered throughout the room in frantic disarray, both male and female. Dim lighting hid many details though he sneered as the room slowly came into focus. The bed creaked as someone beside him shifted and drew his attention.

A woman lay beside him curled on her side, facing him. A mass of red hair spread out over the pillow and his shoulder, mussed from both sleep and sex. Her lips parted in sleep, delicate features sweet and calm in the state of rest – a stark contrast to a couple of hours ago. What was her name again?

An unrecognized emotion gnawed at him – he couldn't identify it - and he scowled at the sensation. Brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed on the woman beside him. She sighed contently in sleep, shifting closer to him as her hand rested at the center of his chest. His skin crawled.

What the hell was wrong with him? Usually the touch of a woman sparked his nerves, aroused him easily. Fifteen days ago, Sawyer sat in a jail cell serving a seven year sentence, aching for the release found in a woman. Today, he laid in bed with a beautiful woman, a free man. His body should be ready to go for months.

Determined to prove himself, his hands slowly roused the woman from sleep, lips seeking hers in slow sensual taunting. She hummed, smiling into the kiss as her arms slid up around his neck and shoulders. She coaxed him atop her, murmuring against his lips.

Sawyer settled over her, nestled between her thighs, oblivious to her words. His hands, mouth and hips engaged her yet his mind drifted. With his physical body on auto pilot, Sawyer envisioned water then sand then a jungle. He squeezed his eyes shut, lifting up onto his forearms.

Hands cupped his face then raked down his back. Sawyer opened his eyes, momentarily startled at the face staring back at him. Red hair turned blonde and in the place of hazy hazel eyes, he saw the most startling deep blue.

Around the eyes swelled the ocean, enhancing the vivid blue eyes. The vision shattered when the woman beneath him moaned.

"Come on, Baby," she purred, grinding her hips. "Stop teasing me." Her leg rubbed against his before wrapping suggestively around his waist. With the vision gone, Sawyer kissed her again, focusing intensely on the task.

Afterwards, Sawyer stood in his boxers by the window. He pushed open the curtain, gazing out at the dingy Las Vegas street. Seedy individuals and prostitutes stalked the dimly lit road. From his second floor room, he watched the girls working, flirting with slowly passing cars while dodging dealers and pimps.

He reached behind him for his jeans slung over the chair and pulled a box of cigarettes from the front pocket. Plucking out a cigarette, he tossed the box onto the table then pushed open the window. Striking a match from the nearby ashtray, he puffed on the cigarette until it lit before shaking his hand, extinguishing the match.

Taking a long drag of the cigarette, his eyes fluttered as the much needed nicotine invaded his system. Holding the cigarette with thumb and forefinger, he pulled it from his lips and slowly exhaled.

He glanced to the bed; the woman slept. For the fifth time, he replayed the evening in his head. Everything began as usual. He found the mark, romanced her, got her to bed, slept a little and that was when it changed.

When he initially left prison, he considered starting over, doing something else. He had no idea where that thought originated. After all, what else could he do? He couldn't expect a career change. So he went right back to Hibbs, got a lead on a mark and started all over again. However, he felt disgusted. It confused him.

Then there was the strange dream he couldn't remember, the visions, those eyes. Emotions raged through his heart so foreign, he needed time to decipher them. Emotions like betrayal, guilt, fear, sorrow then finally remorse.

He turned away from the woman in the bed to stare out the window, an intense scowl firmly in place. He attempted to plan the next stage of the con but the more he thought about it, the more his stomach knotted. Sickened with himself, he took another elongated drag on the cigarette. He couldn't go through with it. He couldn't take this woman's money. What happened to him?

Prison wasn't exactly a life changing experience. On the contrary, it hardened him; it forced him to survive. All he wanted to do was … well he didn't know anymore. When had that changed?

Disgusted, he snuffed the cigarette in the ashtray then stepped into his jeans. Once fully dressed, he stalked to the door, pausing when his hand gripped the door knob. Huffing a sigh, he returned to the bed and crouched down at the bed stand. He debated waking her but finally decided on leaving a note.

Christ, he must really be sick to even think of one of those options, much less choosing between them. He opted for a simple note, 'Sorry. Had to run. Paid the bill'.

It wasn't the kindest note and she deserved better than that. But hell, he abandoned the plan to rob her blind, so she should consider herself lucky.

Ensuring his briefcase locked, he tugged it off the shelf and quietly left the room. He walked five blocks down the street towards his hotel, dodging pedestrians, prostitutes and peddlers. Inside the room, he flicked on the light.

The door eased closed behind him with a gentle click and Sawyer tossed the briefcase onto the bed at the center of the room. Peeling off his clothes, he kicked out of his boots and stalked into the bathroom. A florescent light over the sink flickered to life, shuddering in a vain attempt to illuminate the room. The exhaust fan rattled, buzzed then died. He threw open the shower curtain and stepped into the small tub, turning on the water as hot as he could stand.

Black mildew discolored the grout of the shower walls, immediate evidence of years of neglect. Steam filled the small enclosed quarters; no window available to offer relief. His skin burned, reddening at the hot assault. He washed once then twice, desperate to rid his body from the unclean, rancid sensations that clung to him in the afterhours of his romantic evening. He scrubbed raw, aching from both heat and friction. He washed his hair and body a third time before turning off the water.

Dried and nude, Sawyer sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the open briefcase. Forty thousand in cash lined the inside of the case – all twenties bound in $2000 stacks. Every cent to his name in that case, he ran his fingers along the bills in pensive reflection.

Dirty money. Forty thousand was all that remained from his last con before prison. He sneered, angered at the swelling emotions of disgust and guilt that surfaced as he stared at the money. Slamming closed the case, he tossed it on the floor then laid back on the bed. Fuck this. He couldn't think anymore. He turned off the lights and sprawled out on the mattress, forcing his body to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Four days passed since Sawyer ran out on the mark. He avoided Hibbs, avoided calls, avoided anything and everything. For another consecutive night, he pulled on a leather coat. Night time in Vegas during November could be cold. He glanced at himself in the mirror and raked a comb through his hair. That morning he indulged himself, cutting his hair to a slightly shorter length than usual. He liked a little bit of length because it made him look dangerous. But too long and he felt too feminine but he still liked it long enough for a woman to tug on so he settled on a length just past his ears. Not that he could stomach the thought of anyone tugging on it lately.

Content with his appearance, he unbuttoned the top and second button of his shirt. He stalked from the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

He crossed the street, ducking into a dingy dank bar. He never frequented the same bar, choosing a different place each night. In Vegas, such a prospect fulfilled quite easily. Three men the size and stature of great apes crowded around a pool table while one leaned over a corner to line up a shot. Stale beer and sweat hung in the air, pungent, permeating the pores. Three working girls sauntered throughout the bar, flirting and testing waters, fishing for a bite in the hopes of an evening paycheck. Two men threw money down on a table near the dart board, wagering on the game as two college boys chugged beer and twirled the darts between thick fingers.

Sawyer sat on an empty stool at one end of the bar, glaring at a man to his right who lay sprawled over the counter in a drunken stupor. A buxom brunette behind the bar leaned towards him, smiling flirtatiously. "What'll ya have, Darlin'?"

"Beer," he gruffed. "And none a that piss beer either."

The bartender laughed. "I'll bring ya somethin' real good on tap."

Sawyer grunted in thanks and gulped the first quarter of the mug within seconds. He reflected on the internal turmoil's incessant raging. In just over a week, he felt a new man, unwilling to continue his life of exploitation. The thought of running a con, stealing, abusing, and running caused his stomach to rumble and knot. But he didn't know how to change. He had no skills, no real job experience, no education. Hell, he dropped out of high school.

The bartender took his empty glass and brought him a second beer. He glanced across the bar to a woman sitting at the opposite end of the counter. Her blonde head ducked, she stared into her half filled wine glass, swirling the red liquid rhythmically. She reached up to adjust the strap of her cocktail dress, sighed, and then sipped her wine.

The largest man at the pool table sauntered to the bar towards the blonde woman. Sawyer gulped the beer as the man openly flirted. The woman glanced up indifferently, brow quirked curiously at the advance then rolled her eyes dismissively. Sawyer grinned into his glass as the man bristled, insulted. He suddenly gripped the woman's arm and sneered, muttering in her ear.

A wave of protective jealousy surged through Sawyer when the woman flinched slightly then glared with well masked emotion. Sawyer put the beer down then called. "Hey, Cro-Magnon! Why don't ya piss off and leave the lady alone?"

The man squared his shoulders and turned to glare across the bar. "And who the fuck asked you, Cowboy?"

The woman glanced between both men before jerking her arm away. Sawyer slid off his stool, carrying his beer across the bar to the truck of a man. What the hell came over him! "You did. When ya started pushin' around yer lard ass like yer shit don't stink."

Two of the man's buddies approached the bar, muscles tense, ready to fight. As his friends approached, the man emboldened. "Looks like yer itchin' for an ass kickin'."

Sawyer crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the counter, ensuring none could sneak up behind him. "Oh I don't know. Looks like yer just itchin' to see how far I can get my boot up yer ass."

An older male bartender leaned over the counter behind Sawyer and sighed, exasperated. "Wade, if you're gonna start another bar fight, get the hell out of here. I'm not in the mood to deal with the cops again. Especially after last night. Ok?"

Wade held Sawyer's unflinching gaze. "Come on, boys, let's get outta here. We can mess up his pretty boy face another time." He laughed, purposefully bumping into Sawyer on his walk out. "Plus, she's a little on the cheap side. We can get better further down the strip."

Sawyer narrowed his eyes, glaring as they walked away. He turned with them then sat in the chair beside the woman in a blatant display of victory. Eyes on the door, he focused on the retreating men. "Don't listen to 'em. It's plain as day yer not a street girl."

"Thank you. You shouldn't have though. They could have hurt you."

He turned at the gentle melodic lilt and offered a small smile. "Yeah, well I make it a habit of picking fights in a bar."

She smirked at the words and glanced to him. "Thanks either way."

Sawyer met the most stunning blue eyes and his breath hitched in his throat. Damn she was gorgeous. He ignored the feeling of a punched gut and chuckled casually. "Looks like you need a refill." He motioned to the bartender with a finger. " 'Nother wine for the lady. Beer for me."

The blonde woman quirked a brow as her empty glass filled. "And how do you know I didn't reach my limit?"

He grinned, flirtatious and leaned closer to whisper. "Cuz you looked like you need as much to drink as me. And I ain't reached my limit yet."

"Hmm," she looked away and sipped her wine, evasive. "And how much do you need to drink?"

He shrugged. "Depends on how long we can extend this conversation. And if you want to move to one of those tables behind ya?"

Brow furrowed, she glanced back over her shoulder at the few tables, all abandoned. She laughed, facing him. "Well you certainly don't waste time, do you?"

"Never been accused a daudlin'." He teased then stepped back to motion with his hand to a nearby empty table for two.

She eyed him, calmly appraising before her lips tweaked in amusement. "Alright, Tex, you win. It's the least I can do after you faced down that … admirer."

"You don't need to pull any punches." He responded, following her to the table. "Call him a pretentious prick. That's ok." He grinned into his beer mug, taking a seat. He watched her, appreciatively. She wasn't the typical woman he usually drooled for, though he found himself entranced. Her classical beauty hardened by stress though at times offered glimpses of calm, tenderness and gentleness. And then there were those piercing blue eyes. What was it about those eyes!

"Some might say it's rude to stare," she teased and hid the smirk behind her wine glass. Unperturbed by his obvious attraction, she tilted her head curiously, a faint flush tingeing her pale cheeks pink.

"Yer quite a sight for my eyes, Sweetheart," he drawled then eased closer, leaning into the table. "What's a class act like yerself doing here? Yer on the wrong side of the tracks."

Internally, she winced though her expression gave nothing away. "That obvious?" At his slow nod, she sighed, raking a hand through her hair to fluff the back. She averted her eyes. "Had to get away. Guess I should have paid more attention where I stalked off to."

"Maybe. Even this bit away from the strip ain't exactly the safest place to be."

"You're here."

He nodded again, answering simply. "I belong here." She looked back at him at the answer but he looked away and took a slow drink of his beer. "So what did ya run from?" What came over him? Why did he care? And he genuinely cared. Maybe it just felt nice to talk to someone with no strings attached. No mark, no purpose. Just talk.

She eyed him skeptically. "Don't you think that's a bit personal?"

"Maybe," he easily agreed. "But when I'm two seconds from getting' my ass kicked over you, think I'd like to know why."

She held his eyes for endless seconds before finally offering a curt nod. "Fair enough." She tilted her head and searched his eyes, pondering the precise words. "I'm in town on a conference and let's just say, there's only so much I can stand."

Sawyer chuckled. "Ah, so the whole get away thing kinda makes sense. What do you do?"

"I'm in research." She said casually, sipping her wine. "Your turn. Question for a question. So I get two."

"Two, huh?" He took a deep drink of his beer. "Alright. Shoot."

She leaned forwards, curious, challenging. "Why do you think you belong here?"

His expression clouded and he averted his eyes in thought. When he answered, he refused to look at her. "Remember when you were growin' up and yer mama warned ya about a certain kinda guy. And to stay away from him?" When she nodded, his eyes sought hers, matching her challenge. "I make him look like a catch."

She watched him in reflection as she rested her forearms on the table. No uncertainly or uneasiness settled on her expression. "By force or by choice?"

A response of force quickly rose to his tongue but when he opened his mouth to answer, no words escaped. He raked the hair from his eyes, unsettled at her perceptive piercing gaze. "I don't know."

She inhaled slowly, debating the acceptability of the answer. "Alright." Then smirked. "It was probably the most honest answer you could give."

He shifted, discomforted and leaned back in his chair in an attempt to appear casual and at ease. "So ya came here to drink alone and pick up skeezeballs in a dive bar. Tsk Tsk, ya got a strange idea of a good time."

She chuckled and settled into her chair, calm and controlled. "More like I was so pissed, I just started walking and now that I'm here, it wasn't my best idea."

He nodded, relaxed at her casual demeanor. "Well ya know what they say about brainiacs. Ace the book stuff but …" he trailed off and grinned playfully. "Plus you're still sittin' here with me."

She matched his playfulness. "After the walk to get here, I don't think I have to worry about you doing anything to me."

"Really? How do you know that?"

"Because you didn't walk in that door with any indication of interest in me."

"Maybe that's part of my game."

"Is it?"

Sawyer turned his head slightly, engaging in her blatant challenge. Maybe for one time in his life, he could be honest with someone. Maybe just maybe, it could be this gorgeous nameless stranger in a bar. "It was. I'm kinda sick of the game."

A warm smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Then maybe you should change the game. Or at least the rules."

"Easier said than done, Sweetheart," He motioned to the bartender to refill his beer. "And I do believe it's my turn for a question."

She smiled into her glass, took a sip then placed the glass down, waiting patiently.

"You seein' anyone?"

"Hmm, no. I'm not." She answered simply. "Why do you ask?"

"That's your question?" Sawyer chuckled, fisting the mug of beer. "I wanna know if I should be lookin' over my shoulder for a pissed off boyfriend."

A flicker of unidentified emotion surfaced then disappeared. "You won't have any more bar fights because of me."

For decades, Sawyer made a living by understanding woman, reading them. This one mystified him however some fundamentals remained the same, though she hid the vulnerability well. A suave smile in place, he murmured. "Shame, I was really itchin' for a fight tonight. Smart girl like you … knock out. You'd be worth dodgin' a few punches."

Quietly, she smiled for him, a hint of sadness in her eyes. She waited patiently while the bartender brought her another glass of wine. The two she drank offered a delightful buzz, loosening her tongue. "My question. Why are you still here with a 'good girl' like me when you're a self admitted bad boy?"

"Honestly?" he asked and at her stern nod and defensive gaze, he felt compelled to answer truthfully. "Maybe because I can't remember the last time I told the truth. And that sitting here tonight with a gorgeous stranger totally outta my league … maybe I can be honest for once in my miserable god damn life. And just maybe … I'll know if that's how I wanna be. But I know why yer still here." He leaned forward to whisper. "Because somethin' about sittin' in this hell hole with a guy you have no business knowin' thrills you."

Her shoulders tensed. "Is that so?"

He nodded slowly. "Yep. And I'll tell ya why." His eyes slowly scanned down every visible inch of her body. "Cuz no man … has ever looked at ya like I am now. And yer still not quite sure what to do about it."

"And you're so sure of yourself." Her voice laced with agitation, trembling minutely on the last word.

"I am," he responded simply then boldly stared at her lips. "Yer completely unaware how damn gorgeous you are which makes ya even sexier. Plus, ya flinched when I mentioned a jealous boyfriend but in a way that said ya wished for one. Both add up to you bein' hurt and trampled on probably by some big wig douche that didn't know how fuckin' great his life coulda been and pissed it all away for whatever pair a legs that crossed his path."

She choked out a laugh, eyes focused over his shoulder at the far wall. "Jesus, is it that obvious?"

"No. But I'm a bit more observant than most. Actually ya hid it all pretty well til about five minutes ago. Plus ya need to realize whoever this guy is? He's a total douche rocket. I never had a constant committed relationship before but if I had a girl like you? I'd consider it. And that should tell ya something comin' from a total ass like me."

She sighed, rubbing her eyes then took a long gulp of her wine. Disarmed, she met his gaze but at a loss for words, remained silent.

He smirked. "I make a living exploiting people. Once yer internal walls cracked, I saw it all." Reaching out, he took her hand and squeezed. "For what it's worth, whoever this guy is, is a jerk off."

Emotions and walls reinforced, she smiled. "If that's all he was, I wouldn't mind. So you exploit people? Are you an insurance salesman?"

He laughed. "Not really, but we can call it that. Let's just say, I wanna get out of the business."

"So why don't you?"

"It ain't that easy," he said, fiddling with the damp coaster on which his beer rested. "Boss is a bit controlling."

She pulled her hand back and amusement flashed in her eyes. "I know exactly what that's like."

He offered an agreeing nod and pressed his thumb into the table. "Got me right under his thumb. And I can't exactly bite the hand, if ya catch my drift. So I'm stuck."

"You're not stuck. You're stuck because you want to be." As the words left her mouth, she frowned. Realization overwhelmed her and she sipped her wine, pondering the irony.

"Cuz I ain't got nothin' else to be." He interrupted her train of thought. "I can't do anything else. This is all I've ever done. Plus, who'd hire me? I don't exactly got the best resume."

"It will get harder before it gets easier. A lot harder. So don't get discouraged."

A bitter scoff slipped passed his lips and he chugged the rest of his beer. "I didn't even finish high school. Christ ya can't even pump gas without that."

"Then that's what you do. Your first step is to get your GED. Well first is to get away from this boss. You might have to work at the bottom. Prove yourself. Don't give up."

Sawyer watched her finish the wine, eyes on her mouth. "One condition. You don't give up either."

She smiled, genuine. "I won't." She stood, straightening her dress. "I should head back before my colleagues start to freak out."

He stood as well. "I'll walk ya back." Plucking his wallet from his back pocket, he paid for both their drinks, offering a maddening grin at her disapproving frown. "My treat."

"I can pay for my own wine." She approached him and opened the snap clasp of her purse.

"Ain't doubtin' it." He leaned closer to her, ducked down to whisper in her ear, his voice a husky lull. "Man always treats the girl on the first date. So put that money away, Darlin'." He stood tall and winked flirtatiously. "No strings. Promise. Just wanna make sure you get back to the strip."

She appraised him, searchingly, her mind obviously spinning in thought. "I suppose that does seem wise though why should I trust you to get me there."

"Maybe you shouldn't," he challenged with a slight shrug. "But your choices are me or go alone." He extended a hand to her in invitation.

After a moment's hesitation, she slipped her hand into his. Tucking her purse close, she walked with him from the bar. "I don't even know your name."

"Is that right?" He glanced to his side, and grinned a sexy irresistible grin. "And which name would you like? My real name or the name I use for work."

Her penetrating intense stare met and held his. "Whichever you'd like to give me."

The name 'Sawyer' rested on the tip of his tongue but with quick realization, he bit back the response. For the first time in decades, he didn't feel like 'Sawyer.' The grey area between Sawyer and James blurred even further. At this point, he knew they were one in the same man. That evening was he Sawyer? He nervously licked his lips, guiding her around a drunken couple. "James. My name is James." He wondered if she believed it was his real name.

A slight smiled tugged the corner of her lips. "Hello, James. I'm Juliet."

The street brightened, more crowded as they neared the main strip. "Well, Juliet, we had a fantastic evening and I think we should do it again tomorrow. Only some place less … uh … shitty."

Her smile broadened. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Second date. Tonight's been the first."

"I'd like to, but my flight home is first thing in the morning." She said, sadly.

"Ah," he nodded slowly. "Doesn't happen to be L.A.?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "No opposite direction. Still warm with beaches. Miami."

"Figures. My luck yer all the way across the damn country."

"This is my hotel here."

He paused outside the ritzy casino and let out a slow whistle. "Nice digs."

She released his hand and turned to face him. "Thank you. For tonight."

He smiled softly, inclining his head in a slight bow. "My pleasure. I do have one more question before the night's up."

"One more, huh?"

He grinned at the amusement reflected in her eyes. "Yep," then took her hand again. "Let me walk you to your room."

Curious, she quirked a brow, gauging his motivations. "Is that your question?"

"Yes," he smiled, flashing the dimples. "Cuz I fully intend on kissing you and ya deserve better than a back alley feel up."

She laughed. "I suppose I should be flattered you think that way." She eyed him skeptically in thought. "No promises. Maybe a night cap."

He held up his hands submissively. "No pressure. But you're not foolin' me, Sweetheart. You want this kiss as much as I do."

Her cheeks blushed a faint shade of pink. "You've been the one thinking about it all night, trying to act like you weren't staring at my mouth."

"I don't deny it." He responded with a saucy grin. "Can't blame a man for lookin' at what he wants."

With masked disbelief, she searched his eyes. "Why would you want that?"

"Better question is … why wouldn't I?"

"Please, answer me."

He easily read the hint of desperation, an internal yearning for something too long missed. He knew that look well and here this woman exposed the insecurity, though well masked. The old Sawyer would pounce on it, exploit it, then run. But what about this new Sawyer? All he knew was that something changed within him. Something he didn't understand or even completely accept. One thing, however, was certain. He could not do to this woman what he'd done to countless others.

"Answer's simple," he said. "Cuz I'm attracted to ya."

Her head tilted in pensive though, searching for a hint of truth to his words. Pleased with what she found, she led him inside and through the elaborate marble foyer to the elevators. "I must be out of my mind."

"Must be," he jested with a teasing grin as they waited on the elevator, riding up to her floor. He watched her from the corner of his eye, thrilled at her nerves. With a ping, the elevator announced their floor and he held the door open for her before following her out onto the plush carpet of the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Turning the corner, Sawyer spotted four people at the end of the corridor, two men and two women huddled together in conversation. Judging by their attire, they likely came from the same party Juliet abandoned. A woman in red shot a hostile glare towards Juliet; Juliet ignored her and paused outside room 415, searching her handbag for the keycard.

He stepped up behind her, sliding a possessive hand around her waist to rest on her hip. She tensed slightly then relaxed back into him, relieved at the presence. Sawyer held her closer as she searched the bag then whispered in her ear. "Friends of yours glaring daggers in the back of your head?"

"You could say that," she responded in a shaky voice. "The short man is my ex-husband and the woman in red is one of the many sluts he cheated on me with."

His hand tightened on her waist and he ducked his head. "Hey," soft lips pressed to the exposed flesh of her shoulder then up her neck. She sighed, eyes fluttering. He muttered in her ear. "Want me to kick the shit outta him?"

She smirked and shook her head, releasing the breath she held. His free hand picked the keycard from her trembling grasp as the hand on her waist tightened and turned her to face him.

His lips hovered over hers. "Then we'll make him jealous." He grinned at her soft chuckle and pressed his lips to hers. She cupped his cheek, returning his kiss with hesitant submission. He stepped closer, pinning her to the door as his right hand fiddled with the keycard. Her arms wrapped around his neck as his left hand splayed on her back. Expertly, he opened the door.

With hunger, he deepened the kiss and lifted her against him, walking inside the room. He kicked the door closed, spun and set her on her feet before pressing her back into the door, hips firmly settled against her. She whimpered against his mouth at the unfamiliar assault on her senses. He dropped the keycard to the carpet and splayed both his hands on her sides then her back. Her tongue matched his at every stroke, her hands tangled in his hair, clinging to the sweet abandon brought by his kiss.

Breathless, bodies in sync, the kiss slowed and both panted for breath. She swallowed hard, voice rasped with desire. "I shouldn't ask you to stay."

"You shouldn't," he agreed then kissed her soundly again. His hands slid along her waist, up her sides then down her arms. Fingers entwined, he pinned her hands over her head in a primal display of dominance. He ground his hips into her and tangled his tongue with hers.

Her fingers clenched, tightening her hold on his hands. Lost in the mysteriously familiar embrace, her body betrayed its desire. She moaned softly and playfully bucked her hips against his. Disarmed, his grip on her hands loosened, releasing her. She raked her fingers through his hair, tangling at the back and tugged on the strands to guide his head through her kiss.

He pulled back, panting. "I'm staying."

"I know," she purred then hummed in delight when he kissed her. He lifted her against him again but this time, she wrapped her legs around his waist. The cocktail dress rode up, exposing her legs to him and he growled, hands running over her thighs. She shivered at the heat of his hands through the pantyhose.

His mouth and tongue assaulted her, desperate for her kiss. His mind flooded with strange sensations and emotions, his heart racing with not only desire but possessive affection. He kissed her as if he had been kissing her for years and her body responded in every familiar fashion.

She cupped his cheeks; fingers splayed over the day's growth on his jaw and eased him back. Her eyes closed, she pressed her forehead to his, nuzzling him affectionately in an attempt to slow down whatever it was that was happening to them. "I've never done this before," she admitted in a husky whisper. Her legs tightened around his waist for balance, but also subconsciously showing him she had no desire to stop.

He swallowed hard, eyes peeking up slightly to look at her. He kissed her lips softly, a mere brush. "You're a virgin?" He teased her and his hands roamed her back and then lower over her hips to hold her firmly against him. "You don't kiss or move like one."

She chuckled, fingers sliding back through his hair. "I've had sex before. I just mean … like this. A random … stranger in a bar."

He licked his kiss swollen lips and sighed softly. "You won't regret this. I'll show you everything you've missed." He kissed her again and she whimpered in response. He turned from the door and walked to the bed. Setting her on the edge of the foot of the bed, he knelt down and tugged her hips until she settled right against him. Her legs tightened then loosened, hooking her heels into the backs of his thighs. He hummed and pulled his lips from hers to trail his mouth down her throat and over her collar.

Her head tilted back and lips parted in pleasant sighs. She toyed with his hair then pressed into his shoulders, fingers offering a delightful and coaxing massage. His hands moved expertly over her, triggering small shudders of desire as if he already knew her body. A soft whimper slipped from her lips. "How do you … do that?"

His thumb and forefinger pinched the zipper at the back of her dress and he slowly pulled the zipper down to her hips. With each inch of exposed skin, his opposite hand caressed, stroking down her body before splaying the warm palm over the small of her back. His fingers teased her there and she trembled, moaning softly. He grinned against her throat, every male nerve within him firing at the knowledge he could arouse her so easily with just his touch. "I … I just seem to know where to touch you." He kissed up to her ear then moaned. "And your body … easily tells me." He swirled his tongue along the shell of her ear and she ducked her head into his throat, nipping at the taut skin along his shoulder.

He groaned as her hands slipped over his chest, unfastening the top two buttons before sliding her hands under the shirt at his collar to touch his skin. His eyes fluttered at the sensation of her hands on him and his groin tensed in desire. "Juliet," he whispered her name and captured her lips. Her tongue sought his first, tangled and coaxed as she guided him to answer her. He slipped his fingers into the thick straps of her cocktail dress then suddenly broke the kiss, pulling back to look in her eyes.

Shocked by the sudden loss, she met his gaze, confused and dazed with desire. "James."

He panted, forcing the words from his mouth. "I'm a criminal." He admitted in a raspy voice. "I … I was in prison." She stared blankly at him, sobering and he quickly continued, not moving from his place even though her legs slackened around him. "I … I'm a con man. I steal money … from women. I con them out of their savings and run. I was in prison last month serving seven years but got out after only one because …" he laughed, bitterly and shook his head, looking away from her. "I … I ran a con for the warden in prison to find out where some dumb ass hid a few million. So they gave me time served and I'm out. But I swear to God, Juliet, I … I ain't connin' yah."

She reached up to slowly push his hands away. "Why are you telling me this now?"

He obeyed her silent request and sat back on his heels, his eyes still filled with a strange mixture of lust and pleading desire. "I … I don't wanna lie to you. I can't explain it. I … after prison I got out and went right back to it but just … couldn't go through with it. I left her four days ago and been drinking myself stupid ever since and then I saw you tonight and I just … Fuck, this must sound like a con." He looked away from her, roughly raking a hand through his hair.

"The way you kiss me …" she trailed off and chewed nervously on her lower lip. "Is that how you kiss every woman you've conned?"

"No," he stated without hesitation and cupped her cheeks. "I know how to kiss women to make them melt. But those kisses mean nothing to me. It's an act. I'm done actin', Sweetheart." He ran his hands down her throat, her shoulders then sides. "I kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed. The way you should."

"How do I know that?" she whispered, her eyes a mixture of challenge and uncertainty.

"Because if all I wanted to do was have you melt, you wouldn't be able to talk right now. You'd be delirious."

Her cheeks flushed red and she looked away from him to control herself before finally asking the question on the tip of her tongue. "Did you mean what you said? At the bar when you said you wanted to get out? Away from your … boss. About wanting a change? Wanting to be something else?"

He stared at the wall behind the large queen sized bed, eyes distant and stressed. Silent for nearly a full minute, he finally answered. "I want to. I don't know if I can."

She cupped his cheek, forcing his eyes back to hers. "Will you give up, when it gets hard?"

"I don't know."

She leaned down with confidence, purpose and kissed him softly, slowly. "Will you give up, when it gets hard?"

He swallowed hard. "I … I don't know."

She kissed him again, sliding the hand from his cheek behind his neck and holding him to her. Again and again she kissed him before murmuring against his lips. "Will you give up?"

He shook his head, eyes closed. "No … No I won't give up."

"Say it again."

"I won't give up."

"Why?"

"I …" he kissed her again, slowly, holding her lips with his. "I … I have to see. Am I a bad guy or a good guy?"

Juliet gently eased him back, eyes searching his. "I don't know. You need to figure that out. See if you're really the bad man you think you are. Or you're just hiding inside him because it's too hard to be the man you are."

"What if I'm really a bad man?"

"If you were, you wouldn't be doubting yourself right now." She answered simply.

He ducked his head and lifted up on his knees towards her, resting his hands on her hips again. "Why are you still … why have you not told me to leave?"

"Because I don't want to." She kissed the center of his chin. "You need someone to believe in you, James. You need someone to see you for who you are and accept you. Even if it's only for tonight." She tilted her head. "And for once in my life I need to feel beautiful." She admitted with a tinge of bitterness, sadness. "Is your name really James? Or is that what you tell them."

"My name is James Ford. For the last twenty some years I lived by the name of Sawyer. Nobody has called me James since I was twelve. Well except for the judge." He jested and smirked softly at her. Reaching up with his fingers, he flicked the straps off her shoulders, eyes unwavering from hers as he pushed the dress down to her waist.

She smiled at the little joke, at ease with his casual gentleness. "I have faith in you, James." She admitted. "You are a good man. I see it in your eyes. Just don't forget he's there."

"And you're so god damn gorgeous," he drawled and let his eyes slide down her body, over her breasts and waist. He grinned wolfishly. "Don't you forget that. Ya hear me?"

She searched his eyes a long moment, stroking a hand down his jaw, her fingers teasing.

His eyes held hers and his pulse raced, heart swelling at the open acceptance in her eyes. She trusted him. She believed in him and she needed him for who he was, not what he could promise or what he wasn't. He was everything she should discard, everything she should shun and yet she sat half nude before him, asking for him.

No more words necessary, he lifted up towards her and captured her lips. She willingly succumbed to him, arms banding around his neck to return his kiss. Her generous submission tore at his core, embedding itself as a firm and hopefully permanent reminder of her trust, her desire and her belief and acceptance of him. The more he kissed her, the more familiar the sensation. He cupped her cheek, shocked to feel dampness and he broke the kiss a moment to look in her eyes.

Dampness flickered in her gaze, stray tears slipping from the corners. He closed the distance between them, kissing her again. Expertly, he unfastened her brazier and tossed it aside. His hands settled on her waist and he tugged at the dress. She squirmed, lifting slightly so he could pull the dress down her legs and leave it in a discarded pile on the floor. He caressed her thighs then down her calves, running warm hands over her legs until she trembled with want. He plucked off her heels and dropped them over his shoulder.

She smiled against his lips. "You're stripping me."

"I have to see you," he groaned and kissed her deeply. She moaned, fingers raking through his hair as he peeled the pantyhose and panties down her legs then off. Her stomach clenched then dropped as his hands touched her bare skin from her calves, up her thighs then over her waist. He pulled back quickly and his eyes slowly glided down her body, staring at every point. The further down his eyes trailed, the darker the lust, the more obvious his need.

His jeans constricted and he shifted in discomfort at the tightening fabric. She flushed pink and her hands twitched, moving slightly in the desire to cover herself. She yielded to the embarrassment and bit her lip, blocking his view with a strategically placed hand.

"No," he shook his head, eyes focused on her hand and he reached out to move it away, staring at her waist, hips and the apex of her thighs. "You're perfect, Juliet." He groaned and swallowed hard as he nearly drooled at the sight of her. "Ya look god damn delicious."

Awed at his admission, she brushed her fingers over his cheeks. "You don't have to say …" she tensed when he pushed at her thighs and ducked his head to her. The words she tried to speak fluttered off into a throaty moan. Her eyes widened and she shivered, trembled in nervous anticipation. No man had ever done to her what he so exquisitely offered. She leaned back, balanced on her hands and watched him, mesmerized as he gently slung her legs over his shoulders, his hands caressing her thighs, hips and waist before one dipped between her legs to join his lips and tongue.

Her body clenched and tingled in ways she never imagined it could. Her elbows shook, giving way at the pleasure and she lay back, staring at the ceiling. Her hips involuntarily bucked against him and she moaned when his finger slid inside her.

His ego soared at how willingly she gave in to him. Her body cried for his touch, his mouth and more; he gladly complied. He'd done this for many women throughout his life, but it was a chore, part of the act. He never wanted to do it, never really enjoyed it. But with Juliet? He wanted to, he had to taste her. He hungered. The moment he saw her nude, lovely and natural, he thought of nothing more than burying between her thighs and tasting everything about her. He was not disappointed. She was heaven, sweet and musky and something distinct and oddly familiar. He wanted to feel her release. He wanted to give her that. He needed to taste that.

She fought the pleasure, unsure of the completely new feelings he invoked on her body. She tensed, resisting the new sensations; her muscles trembled as she forced the words from her mouth. "What … what are you … "she trailed off on a moan, low and throaty as his tongue stroked over her.

"I want to see you," he husked. "Come on, Baby. Scream for me." He twisted his fingers inside her and pivoted his touch slightly. Her eyes widened and her back arched as she cried out softly in blissful release. He lifted his head from her, his hand working the pleasure from her climax as his thumb massaged her apex. He watched her, memorizing her in her moment of utter abandon. He licked the taste of her from his lips. "That's it." Only when her high faltered and her muscles eased their tension did he slide his hand away from her. His lips pressed to her thigh, licking and savoring before trailing kisses slowly up her body.

She lay motionless on her back, her skin twitching and burning with every kiss as she stared at the ceiling, panting softly. What sweet and glorious ecstasy! She never felt anything so wonderful, so fulfilling, satisfying and good God what was he still doing with his mouth! She peered down her body as his tongue dipped into her navel, his eyes on her, staring into hers. Dark, laced with lust and wonder, he watched her reaction, a wolfish grin on his face.

"James," she whispered and reached down for him, her fingers sliding through his hair. Her abs contracted and she sat up. He met her half way, lips seeking hers in a searing and passionate embrace. She moaned at the musky taste and her lips parted for him.

He crawled onto the bed, knees planted firmly at her hips as he rested on one forearm, hovered over her. Her hands stroked his cheeks, his throat then down his chest and he worked quickly with his one free hand to unbutton his shirt and shrug out of it. She helped him, pushing the fabric from his shoulders and down his back before her fingers danced along his bare back then down his chest to tug at his belt.

He grinned against her lips. "I still got my boots on."

Eyes still closed, she chuckled into the kiss, pursing her lips once more as she unbuckled the belt and tugged it from the rungs, dropping it to the floor at her side. "Then … we should get them off."

His grin broadened at that and he nibbled on her lower lip a few moments before rolling to the side. He sat up, back to her as he bent over to untie his boots and tug the socks from his feet. She eased back on the bed and knelt behind him, running her hands over his chest then up his shoulders, tickling the taut tendons at his neck. Her lips pressed to the back of his neck, teasing and taunting him.

He hummed. "Mmm, how do you feel?"

"Wonderful," she whispered in his ear. "How do you feel?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Constricted." He pulled his wallet from his jeans and reached out to place it on the bed stand, trusting. He turned towards her, lips brushing hers. "Care to help me with that?" His hands found hers and he guided it down his body to his pants.

She swallowed hard, eyes searching his. "It's … for me." She unbuttoned the button then slowly unzipped them.

"Yeah," he groaned at the freedom. "All you, Darlin'."

"But I … I didn't even touch you."

"I want ya that damn bad." He smiled for her, stroking his fingers over her cheeks. He stood, staying at the bed side and invited her near. She reached to him, eyes on his.

She chewed on her lip, kneeling before him as her hands hesitated on the waist of his pants. He raked his fingers through her hair, rubbing the strands between thumb and forefinger. In the moment, he focused fully on the woman before him. The vulnerable, trusting, beautiful woman who gave herself so freely to him because he needed her. He needed this. And everything about her rang in familiar harmony with the tone of his body. How could she be so perfect for him? At least perfect in this moment.

She swallowed the lump rising in her throat. This handsome, unconventional, dangerous criminal invoked feelings and sensations in her heart, her mind and her body that she never knew existed. Edmund left her a shattered and broken woman and in the course of a single evening, this man managed to begin the reconstruction of the rubble. He laid the foundation; he showed her how wrong Edmund had been. How his cruel words rang untrue. How he lied. Because when she met James' eyes, felt his lips and his hands, he proved that she was irresistible, beautiful and he completely submitted to the desire she sparked within him.

Trust reflected in her eyes, she slowly pushed his jeans off his hips then his boxers. She refused to break the gaze though she saw him gloriously nude from the corner of her eyes. He reached to her, large warm palm cupping her cheek as his thumb brushed her lips. "Are you sure we never met before?"

"I can't remember where," she whispered. "I don't think I could forget you." She smirked teasingly at him and reached out to take him in her hand.

He hissed, eyes fluttering and his body surged at her timid exploration. "I don't think I'd forget either." He admitted and ducked down to kiss her softly. With guiding hands, he eased her back onto the bed and settled beside her, pressing close as his head tilted to deepen the kiss.

She sunk into the mattress, winding her free arm around his neck and hummed at the sensation of his warm nude body pressed to hers. "Do you have something?" She murmured against his lips, hand tightening around him in a teasing stroke.

He growled and nodded. "Uh huh," He flicked his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. When he knew he left her breathless, he kissed down her throat to lavish tender attention to her breasts, slowly firing her core until she squirmed with rising need. He scattered kisses along her chest then up to her mouth again. "Ya ready?"

"Mmmm," she kissed him soundly, reaching down to fist him again and stroke him, teasing and toying until he nearly exploded. But her hand abandoned him before that moment and instead she scratched lightly up his abdomen and around his back.

Moaning deep in his throat, he rolled to the side and reached for his wallet. She followed him, watching as he searched the wallet then pulled out a condom. Her lips pressed to his throat then she kissed down his body, along his abs and lower still.

He shivered and dropped the wallet and the condom, both falling to the floor. His eyes closed and his body arched as he cursed. She grinned at the reaction, elated she could draw such from any man. "I should return the favor, you know."

"I didn't do it … to be repaid," he growled between clenched teeth.

She pillowed her head on his thigh, staring at his eyes and watched, enthralled as he squirmed when she stroked a single finger teasingly along him. "I know."

Every muscle clenched when her lips touched him and his body twisted and throbbed with pending release. Her mouth, deliciously familiar, she seemed to know exactly what he liked, the rhythm, the pressure, the suction. "Ah fuck," he groaned and pressed his hands into his eyes. "Baby I … I'm gonna …" he reached down for her, tangling his fingers in her hair to pull her off of him and tugged her roughly up his body. He kissed her soundly, aching with need.

His lips snapped from hers, momentarily distracted as he reached to the floor at the bed side and plucked the condom from its resting place. She cupped his cheeks, forcing his head back to her and she kissed him deeply. He groaned his approval, fingers struggling with the wrapper and he grunted in triumph with his task completed.

He kissed a hot trail to her ear, humming. "No turnin' back, Baby."

She squirmed as he shifted against her, hand abandoning her a long moment before running along the outside of her thigh. Fingers gripped her flesh and he hooked her leg around his waist. She whimpered, hips grinding against him. "I need this, James. I need you. Please."

He searched her eyes, focused on the vivid blue, open and expansive. "I need you too. Ya got no idea." He kissed her softly as his tip pressed to her and inch by inch, he filled her. His hands adjusted her legs, guiding them around his waist and he pushed up slightly to watch her expression.

Her eyes widened at each inch, body trembling and taut. She shifted through the discomfort, compensating for him, adjusting. He matched her trembling, willing his body to still as she clung to him, hands roaming his back. Her legs tightened and she squirmed against him, wordlessly signaling him.

He nearly released once fully seated within her and squeezed his eyes closed in an attempt to regain control. So tight, so perfect, as if she were made only for him. It had obviously been some time for her and he relished the thought that she chose him, gave him this gift, this perfect night. God, when had he become such a sap? He forced his eyes open, staring at the mix of emotions on her face, the pleasure, the minute discomfort and then pure contentment. At her coaxing, he hesitated no longer.

His lips sought hers, teasing and nibbling through his rhythm, slow and steady, testing her. She matched him instantly, nothing awkward about their joining. She moved with him, instinctive to his body, his desires. Her fingers tickled along his sides and then the insides of his triceps. His arms trembled and eyes fluttered at the touch as she tickled at just the spot to drive him insane. Her left leg slid down, her ankle hooking into the back of his thigh as she coaxed and spurred him. God, how did she know exactly what he needed?

He quickened then slowed, coaxing her to the brink before pulling back, forcing her to calm. His body tensed, aching with need until he thought he'd surely die from pleasure. She held his tempo perfectly, meeting his thrusts, his pivots and he ducked his head into her throat, grunting gruffly at the searing pleasure coursing through his body. He continue as long as his physical body would let him, until she writhed to the point of madness beneath him, his name slipping from her lips in pleading whispers and begs.

His movements expert, something distinct to her. He knew her, every motion garnered the most intense response, her body humming and vibrating with a pending release. He quickened for the last time, faster and harder until she arched beneath him, moaning low in her throat. Her head tilted back, eyes flying open to gaze at the headboard of the bed. His name once again fell from her lips as her legs and body clamped around him in every possible way.

He needed no more coaxing and with one last glorious motion, found the point of absolute bliss and exploded. An undignified curse rolled off his tongue followed by her name, husked hotly in her ear. Her fingers clenched at his shoulders, squeezing him tightly to her as if afraid to let go because he'd disappear. She shivered in the aftermath of climax and groaned, delighted when he nearly collapsed atop her. She never knew a man to give so much, to fully expend himself for her, with her. She relished under his weight, her legs sliding from his waist to his hips, loose and languid as her muscles relaxed.

He made no motion to move from her instead lifting up slightly to smile down into her eyes, his own hazed and darkened in satiated relief. His smile broadened into a sexy grin. "Hey, Gorgeous." He searched her face and he reached up to tuck the mussed stray hair behind her ear.

"Hey," she whispered, matching his smile. Never had a man remained with her, smiled so after sex. Stayed inside her the moment it was finished. The sensation entirely new, she tightened her hold, unwilling to release him just yet.

"I like it here," he drawled, teasingly rolling his hips.

Overly sensitive, she moaned, eyes fluttering, legs tightening on their own. "I like it here too," she admitted softly and hummed sweetly when his lips molded to hers and he offered a long, slow and tender kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

In protest, Juliet dug her fingers into the flesh of his shoulders when the kiss finally broke and Sawyer eased back to grin at her. Her eyes still closed she felt him shift over her, his hand on her hip and then suddenly he was gone. She ignored the feeling of emptiness and the slight chill as he stretched out beside her on his back. Blinking slowly she sighed and turned her head slightly to watch him.

Already looking at her, he grinned when she turned. "Not too bad, if I do say so." He teased and at her smile, kissed her softly again. "I'll be back." He sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He walked away from her and into the bathroom.

Alone in the room and the euphoria fading, self consciousness pierced through the confidence he momentarily built. She sat up in the bed and looked frantically around the room. Standing, she hurried to her suitcase, plucking out the shorts and tank top, her normal sleeping attire. She pulled on the shorts first, settling them at her hips then tugged the shirt over her head.

"Aw, coverin' up on me already?" He drawled from the bathroom door and walked back to the bed. "Ya kickin' me out now that ya had yer way with me?"

She chuckled nervously. "No." She adjusted the tank top then turned back to him. She paused, eyes involuntarily raking his body. He lay out on the bed, fully nude and exposed to her, arms tucked behind his head to prop him up more on the pillow. A slow grin pulled at his lips as he watched her. She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to his. "You can stay if … you want to."

"I do."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he reached a hand out to her. "Come back to bed, Babe. I'm all about cuddlin' after sex. If it ain't too much trouble, I plan on feelin' ya up a bit." He smiled for her, a full blown smile with dimples and even the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes. "Come ahn, I think ya can give me a little pillow talk."

She matched his smile, any confusion masked in her expression as she returned to the bed. "Pillow talk, huh? I didn't know guys actually liked that."

"Depends on the guy. I like it. But sometimes, it depends on the girl I'm with. You fit the bill." He tugged her onto the bed and with a content hum, pulled her down so she lay against him. He maneuvered her expertly, easing her head onto his shoulder as that arm wrapped around her, holding her close to his side. His opposite hand reached to her and took her free hand, placing it on his chest. His fingers toyed with hers.

"What do you mean?"

"Well …" he husked and slid his fingers between hers, holding her hand. "There are some girls you just … well yer done and like ugh. Can't wait to roll away. Kinda wham, bam, thank you ma'am. And then there are other girls that you just don't wanna let go."

"And what am I?"

The hand on her back slid down to cup her hips and then dipped lower over her backside and thighs as he tugged her firmly into him. "Whadda you think?"

She bit her lip, smiling. "I see. Is it like an addiction? To have all these women?"

"Nah. It's a job, nothin' more. I got a real sick comparison for ya. Ask the prostitutes out there if they want to have sex or are addicted to it or enjoy it with everyone. I mean a few of 'em might be but for the most part, it's just a job. They may have clients they prefer or have a good time with, but in the end it's just a paycheck. Same with me. Just a paycheck."

She frowned in thought though not from disapproval, but searching interest. "Have you slept with many women you didn't want to?"

"You know … this ain't exactly the kind of pillow talk I meant. Talkin' about other girls."

She ducked her head, hiding her face from him. "I'm sorry. I'm just curious."

"Strange curiosities you got there, Blondie." He traced a random pattern on her exposed thigh, tone serious, pensive. "Yeah, I slept with girls I didn't want to. Cuz it was part of the job and I did what I had to do. Well I shouldn't say I didn't want to. I mean hell, what guy doesn't want sex, right? Most of them were pretty enough. And when they weren't, well then I just ..." he trailed off, remembering the night four days ago with the latest mark and how he envisioned someone else. Who the hell was he picturing anyway? "I just picture someone else."

"What did you picture with me?" she asked, nervous and insecure with herself though the uncertainty masked so not to expose her complete lack of self worth.

"Hmm," he looked up at the ceiling. "Blonde hair … blue eyes …" he grinned and pulled her closer.

She chuckled and shook her head, swatting his chest. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he hugged her, fingers dancing up and down her spine as he tilted his head down to look at her. "Baby, believe me. That whole time, I was with you. You're gorgeous, Juliet, and I ain't just sayin' that. I always had a thing for blue eyes."

"Blue eyes huh?" She looked up at him, eyes searching his. "Well I guess we're in luck I always had a thing for hazel."

His eyes brightened at that and he closed the distance between them to kiss her. "Guess we are. I'm also a bit of a leg man and ya got great legs." He sat up just enough to peer down their bodies, admiring her legs stretched long and smooth against his.

Her blush deepened, smile softening as her hand tightens in his. "You really mean that, don't you? I mean …" she trails off, licking her lips nervously. "You look at me like you mean it."

"I do mean it. And if ya give me about an hour, I can show ya again how much I mean it."

She lifted up and rested her chin on her hand on his chest, watching his expression. "How would you …" she trailed off and her brow lifted in surprise. "You'd want to go again? You can?"

"Is that a crack at my stamina? I can go all night long, Sweetheart. I just need time to recuperate. Think you can keep up with me?" A teasing smile on his face, he cupped her cheek, lifting her eyes back to his. Did she doubt his stamina? No. No, she doubted herself. "Hey … If I didn't want to, I wouldn't a said anything. Damn that asshole really did a number on ya."

Desperate for distance, she pushed away from him and sat up. Spinning on the bed, she faced him and brought her knees to her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, she hugged her legs, watching him through defensive eyes.

He lay still as she moved, giving her the space she needed. When she finally settled, he reached out to rest his hand on her calf. She needed the comfort and he just had to touch her. He couldn't stop. "I can still go kick the ever loving shit outta him."

Slowly shaking her head, she remained quiet in thought. She appreciated he did not push her because the thought of sharing her turbulent past crippled her. She shivered as his calloused fingers caressed her, tracing patterns with erotic and yet soothing patience. After a few moments of unexpected comfortable silence, she swallowed the lump in her throat. "I think I just find it hard to believe that you think I'm beautiful. I mean, there's nothing special about me."

"Yeah well there's nothin' special about me. And I think I'm hot shit. But there's somethin' special about you. I've seen my share of women. So I've seen all ranges of the spectrum. You're high end, Sweetheart. Trust me."

She smiled weakly, eyes still averted, staring at the wall. "When someone cheats on you, it does something to you. Because you can't help but think what didn't I have that they needed. And when it happens again and again and again …" she sighed, turned her head to look anywhere but at him.

She scoffed bitterly at herself. "He cheated on me when we dated but I believed him when he said it would never happen again. And married him anyway. You know, there's that adage about Fool me once, shame on you; Fool me twice, shame on me. Well it was fool me again and again and again and I just let him. I let him do it. Like I wanted to be blissfully ignorant."

He tilted his head, examining her profile and waited for her words. So raw, vulnerable and sad. This woman was everything he used to seek in a mark. And at the moment, all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and show her she was more than the trash her ex-husband made her believe. He never saw his romps with women as making love. Because it was just sex for the act. With Juliet? He could see himself making love to her. "And what load a bullshit did he feed you to make you think any a this was your fault?"

She scratched her brow and dared to meet his eyes again. "He said I was boring. Dowdy. Too busy with my head in a book and why couldn't I be more like this person or that. You know for our third wedding anniversary he bought me a consultation with a plastic surgeon. For breast implants. Happy Anniversary, Honey. Here go get some silicon shoved in your boobs so I find you more attractive."

Sawyer's eyes darkened. "You don't need anything done. You hear me? Anyway, who the hell wants to squeeze a fuckin' balloon? You've got an amazin' rack, Darlin'. Your ex husband is an absolute piece of shit. Anything he said to you to make you think that there is somethin' wrong with you is a god damn lie."

"You didn't know me in med school. I was a mess, a total nerd and book worm."

"Book worms are sexy. I'm hot for teacher." He mock sang the famous chorus. "Whadda ya say, Blondie? You be the sexy science teacher who gave me detention. Or we gotta study for the anatomy test. " He winked playfully.

She smiled at his words, comforted in his confident and teasing praise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to air all this laundry. I'm sure it's not the pillow talk you wanted. As you can imagine, this whole thing is foreign to me. He wasn't exactly the most … generous lover."

"Well, you're in luck. Cuz I am." He reached out to tuck the hair behind her ear, fingers gentle and tender in touch. "In the morning, you're gonna forget everything that bastard said to you."

Releasing her legs, she crawled towards him, closing the distance to kiss him softly, slowly and then deeply. When he moaned at the kiss, she eased back. "You know, I just got the strangest craving."

"Mmm," he smiled against her lips. "Something involving some part of my body?"

She grinned against his lips. "Only if a part of your body tastes like a mango."

"Mangos?" Amused, he laughed, deep and full. "Well no, can't say that I taste like mangos, but if we get some up here, I'm sure we can think of something. You know, if yer hungry I can go get us something to eat."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No," he answered simply. "But room service usually charge ya yer first born."

She grinned broadly. "Then you're in luck. I'm a baby doctor. And my fee, is the first born."

He stretched out on the bed again on his back with arms tucked behind his head. "Alright, woman. Pull some newborns outta that purse, grab a menu and let's get us somethin' to eat. What time is it anyway?"

Juliet reached over to the bed stand, turning her alarm clock so he could see. "Only just after ten."

Sawyer closed his eyes in comfort. "Mmm, still early enough to eat."

"Early? Wouldn't you think ten is late?"

"In Vegas? Nah. Night's just startin', Babe. You were the one that mentioned grub. So less talky, more fetchy."

She picked up the room service menu from the bed stand and plopped it on his chest with a calm yet oddly challenging glance. "Well, what do you want?"

He opened a single eye to stare at her then picked up the menu to read it. Squinting slightly, he adjusted the distance between the menu and his eyes as he tried to read.

"Forget your glasses?"

He glared. "I don't need glasses!"

Amused, her brow lifted as she watched him. "Really? Is that why you keep moving the menu as you read it?"

"No!"

"Mmm," she nodded, disbelief obvious in her eyes. "Then tell me what you want? What kind of entrées do they have?"

He stared at the menu, attempting to focus yet he refused to move the menu any more. Finally, he grumbled something and handed the menu back to her. "I don't know what I want. You pick something, I'll pick off of your plate."

She laughed, lyrical almost melodic. Teasing, she squirmed closer to him and lay over his stomach, her arm propping up her head. She set the menu on his chest as she read. "Let's see. Do you want a meal? Or dessert?"

His mood lightened since her ribbing seemed done and he smiled for her. "Whatever you want. Does this count as a second date?"

"I don't know. Does it?" She peered up at him a moment before returning her eyes to the menu. "No, seriously, James, how hungry are you?"

"I could eat," he stated honestly. "But only if ya got mouthwash I can bum."

She motioned with a thumb towards the bathroom. "Some came with the room."

"Good. Don't want ya tastin' the meal when I kiss ya."

An endearing and teasing expression crossed her face. "Oh and I'm sure tasting like beer is that much better." She rubbed his stomach and sat up then reached for the phone.

He laughed and shook his head. "You taste like wine, sweetheart. That's what these drunken one night stands are supposed to taste like. Booze and shame … only this time, I don't taste the shame."

She blushed at his words as she stood at the bedside, phone to her ear. "So poetic," she stated and shook her head, unable to keep the smile from her face. "You just have a way with women." Turning her back on him, she ordered a tomato basil pizza, a grilled chicken sandwich and a mango sorbet.

When she hung up the phone he stretched onto his side with a sassy grin. "Want me to run across the street for more wine? They want thirty bucks here for a bottle that's only worth about twelve."

"I'm alright, but if you want to go, that's fine." She said cryptically and set the menu back on the stand.

"Nah, don't really wanna get dressed. Was just throwin' it out there."

She smiled in relief, though with her back turned, he couldn't see. She walked to the table near the window and closed her suitcase, zipping it and set it on the floor, clearing a place for them to eat. "So you're going to answer the door naked."

"Yep."

She laughed and shook her head, returning to the bed to pick up his boxers on the floor. She turned them right side out then tossed them onto his chest. "Humor me."

With a grin, he sat up to shove his feet through the leg holes of the boxers. He lay back, lifting his hips to tug them up, adjusted himself then settled. "There. Better? Can I answer the door now?"

"You can."

"Can I walk outside to see if douche bag is still out there? You know flaunt my stuff instead of kicking his ass."

"If you really want to but I would prefer you didn't."

"Why?"

She sighed and sat on the bed again. "Because I work for him. He's my boss. So flaunting should be kept to a minimum."

Sawyer nodded slowly in understanding. "So I can't take ya against the wall outside his room either. That would be in poor taste."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Yes, poor taste. Plus I'm too self conscious to consider public sex. I'm the wrong girl if that turns you on."

"You turn me on just fine. I don't wanna share tonight."

When the meal arrived, they sat at the table, sharing the pizza and the sandwich. They drank sparkling water and spoke about mundane things like books, television, movies, weather and sports. It shocked him she knew anything about sports; apparently she loved the Miami Dolphins. It shocked her he loved books; he even read _Of Mice and Men._ She knew doctors that couldn't get through that book. One hour passed and then two as Juliet lost herself in the conversation. Even during silence, she felt comforted before he launched into another line of discussion about a book or a movie or something he saw on one of the many educational channels he enjoyed watching.

Sawyer worried how easily he could lose himself in Juliet. Because come the morning when she was gone, then what would he have? Who would he be? He certainly felt the change within him that night. He wished he was a better man. To be a man that deserved her. He wanted her and couldn't explain the primal and instinctual need to hold her and never let go. It frightened him. Never before had he been tempted or haunted by the thoughts of permanence with any woman yet sitting with this blonde bombshell, he thought of nothing else. A woman he had yet to know for a few hours, and he wanted everything from her.

Insanity.

Absolute insanity. He hardly believed in love much less love at first sight. And yet here he sat with a woman he just met and he felt emotions and sensations he never knew before. Mysteriously, the longer the emotions lingered, the more familiar they felt. He must be losing his mind.

Once finished and during a lull in conversation, Juliet called down to the concierge to have the tray and plates removed. Surprisingly, room service responded quickly and within ten minutes, all signs of the meal left the room. Sawyer stepped out of the bathroom, stretching his arms over his head. He grinned at her. "All good. Ya won't taste basil on this tongue tonight."

She smirked. "For your information, I love basil."

"Well, shit."

With a cheeky grin, she slipped past him and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He walked to the bed, stretching out in comfort when he heard the water run in the sink. Reaching over to the bed stand, he picked up the remote and clicked on the television, flipping through the stations. Fancy Schmancy. Place even had all the premium channels, including Playboy.

Juliet spit the toothpaste from her mouth then rinsed her toothbrush. Cupping her hands under the water, she brought the water to her mouth, sucking it through pursed lips and swished around her mouth to rinse. Spitting out the water, she flushed the drain then turned off the tap. Resolutely, she raised her eyes to the mirror, gazing at the stranger staring back at her.

A week ago, something had changed within her. She felt strength, courage, stubbornness slowly followed by paranoia, mistrust and finally regret. All emotions with no reason. She felt a different person, as if this new stronger and confident woman merged with the mousy, complacent and naïve individual she was. A new Juliet combined with old Juliet. She liked new Juliet. New Juliet defended herself, defended her ideas. New Juliet stood up to Edmund, had a mind of her own, picked up hot men in bars for sex.

She smiled softly. Well picking up hot men was certainly new. She certainly had never done something so bold before. She never thought a man would give her a second glance, much less want to have sex with her. Not only was James a stranger in a bar, but a self confessed criminal, con man and womanizer. Despite all that knowledge, her heart raced in his presence. She rationalized the emotions. James was the first man to treat her like a woman, not like a prize or a brain or a possession. A woman.

She craved that. She craved the connection he offered and her heart clung to every word he spoke even though her brain tried to dismiss his words as lies and cons. Maybe she was as foolish as all the other women he conned but when she looked in his eyes, she felt she could see right to his core. Things he tried to hide, emotions he kept well concealed were visible to her eyes. Despite his confident and sometimes arrogant bravado, he was a vulnerable soul, almost childlike begging for love, acceptance, comfort and companionship.

That was why she trusted him. He needed the exact same things she needed. They both needed each other, even if just for the night. In his arms, she felt beautiful. She was beautiful. When the sun rose, how would she ever let him go?


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks so much for all the reviews and the hits on this story. It's gonna be quite a long one, but I'm sure you'll love it. By all means keep sending your reviews my way! I love to read feedback.

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, Juliet exhaled sharply. She strengthened the protective walls around her heart and willed her brain to think and take control. She flicked off the light and walked out of the bathroom. Tilting her head to glance at the television, she crawled onto the bed beside Sawyer. "What's on?"

"Eh," he shrugged and reached for the remote on the bed stand to turn off the television. "Just something on History channel."

"We can watch it if you like. I love that channel." She settled next to him, easily pillowing her head on his shoulder.

"Nah," he clicked off the television. "I'll have enough time to watch that after yer gone and I head back to my dump."

"What will you do? After tonight?"

"Well, probably go back to my hotel for a few days," he stated and stared at the ceiling, eyes absently searching for patterns. "Kinda wanna avoid going back to L.A. for as long as I can. And the boss thinks I'm on a con so he won't question me when I don't come back for a few weeks."

"Well why do you have to even go back? Why not just stay here? Or move to another city. Just go."

"Cuz he'll hound me. I gotta go back and do somethin'. Plus he's expectin' money. I ain't figured that part out yet."

"How much?"

Sawyer chuckled. "About eighty grand. But you see sweetheart, this is how I con women. I make 'em pity me or go into a business venture. Make 'em think it's their idea to give me the money. I don't owe him all the money, he just put me on this job to get it. I give him twenty percent. I just don't think he'll be too happy when I go back there with nothin'. So don't go thinkin' yer gonna pay off my problems."

She grinned, nuzzling his throat. "Who said I was gonna give you the money?"

He chuckled deeply, rubbing her back. "Smart girl."

"Will he hurt you?"

Sawyer turned his head, murmuring in her ear. "Do I sense a bit a worry there, Darlin'?"

She snuggled closer, tickling a hand along his chest. "Yes. I don't want to see you hurt. I think you should call him."

"I don't know what I'm gonna do yet. I need to think on this cuz I can't make the wrong choice."

She slowly shook her head and lifted up to rest her chin on his chest. "Why would you want this life? You said you both chose and didn't choose this."

"Well, circumstances kinda brought me here."

"But what? I mean I look at you and I just can't see the man you claim to be."

He tucked his free arm behind his head, propping himself up slightly, eyes on the ceiling again. "That's the thing though. I was a real son of a bitch, especially before prison. But just this last week, things feel different. I can't explain it. I don't think yer seein' the man I was. Plus, a good con man hides that shit."

"So are you the real man here with me or the con man?"

He smiled. "Real man. Well this man feels strange, but maybe he ain't so bad."

"What are these circumstances that made you a con man?"

He scowled. "That ain't a good story. And I don't wanna ruin the evening."

"Oh and my story about Edmund didn't kill the mood." She lay her head down again on his shoulder.

"Hey, if we're whippin' out to see who's bigger, I'm gonna win, Baby." He teased with a casual smile.

"Prove it," she challenged gently, but seriously. The signal loud and clear, she would not let him evade her question.

Internally, he debated whether or not to tell her anything. Or maybe tell her everything. "Never really talked about it before." He admitted, softly, eyes distant.

Her hand comfortingly stroked his chest, calming and tender. "Cliché as it sounds, sometimes just saying it helps. Sometimes it makes you crack with the realization too but for the most part, it helps."

Silence lingered for elongated minutes. The second hand of his wrist watch ticked consistently, timing the pause in conversation. She said nothing else, merely held him, caressed him and nestled closer. Sawyer pressed his lips firmly together, holding back the words that wanted to spill from his mouth. He never wanted to talk about his past. Why would he so desperately want to share the darkest part of his life with this woman?

Finally, he sighed in defeat. "My life is kinda one big ironic melodrama. When I was eight, my mother was conned outta our life savings. My Dad found out. Let's say he was pretty pissed. Came crashin' home and she rushed me upstairs to my room. Told me to hide and no matter what, not come out. Told me she loved me. That was the last I saw of her."

He slowly shook his head. "Bastard father killed her with a shotgun. Came into my room, sat his ass on my bed then blew his fuckin' head off." He scoffed. "See? Mine's bigger."

Juliet pressed her lips to his jaw, kissing softly then lay her head down again. "You're a man. It better be." Her fingers teased down his stomach to rest at the waistband of his boxers, her hand ever so close to him.

He relaxed and hummed as her hand stroked along his abdomen. Instead of questioning, lingering, apologizing, acting shocked or disgusted she turned his bitter snide comment into a little joke and caressed him. He closed his eyes. God, how did she do this to him? He was a melted mess in her hands. "I dropped outta high school and spent my whole sorry ass life hunting down this fucker. To kill him. I want to kill him. And what did I do? I turned into the bastard. Can ya fucking believe it? I turned into the same god damn asshole I'm out to kill."

At her silence, he continued. "How's that for pillow talk, Baby?"

Her hand stilled on his chest, warm and constant. "Like I said. I'm not used to this pillow talk thing. So I'm following your lead." Her voice calming and steady. Her hand moved again, fingers tickling and pleasantly tangling in the dusting of hair on his chest. "Do you still want to kill this man?"

"Hell yeah, I do."

"Mmm, and do you still want to be him?"

He lapsed into silence, thoughts swirling in his mind. Unfamiliar thoughts of remorse, repentance and guilt. Tightly, he squeezed his eyes closed as if the tension would rid his brain of the pain. Quietly, Juliet reached up, stroking a hand along his jaw then his brow. Confident, firm fingers traced the lines of his brow, smoothing the lines of stress. As the muscles in his face relaxed, he opened his eyes to stare again at the ceiling.

"I don't think you do. You know, it's never too late to change, James. And I believe you can change, because you obviously want to."

"Do you want to change?" He asked, voice husked in reaction to her touch.

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "I don't want to be the meek, mousy and weak woman that Edmund used and walked all over. I can't survive like that. I want to be strong and confident. I've felt different lately too, stronger and more confident and I can't help but think maybe it's a sign."

"Sign, huh?" He shifted on the bed, easing her onto her back and hovered over her, searching her eyes. "Think I had a few signs this last week." He smirked wickedly and ducked his head, his lips sealing to her throat, effectively distracting and evading the serious conversation.

She smiled, cupping the back of his head, allowing the moment to pass and enjoying his attention and company. "And what was your favorite sign?"

"Probably when ya wrapped yer legs around my waist when I had ya pinned against the door. Best damn sign a man can get."

She chuckled, humming and then shivered as he nibbled along the line of her throat. "Is that so? And why is that?" She prodded him, fingers pressing firmly into his shoulders then around his upper back.

He pressed closer, lips at her ear. "Cuz if a girl like you can want a piece a shit like me … than maybe it ain't all lost."

She shoved at his chest, forcing him up. He fought her at first but finally, reluctantly relented and allowed her to push him back. She cupped his cheeks, forcing his eyes to hers. "If after tonight you swindle any other woman out of her savings or if you come after me for my money or find this man and kill him, then yes, you're a piece of shit. But if you change. If you don't steal from women, if you don't resort to murder, then never call yourself that again. Never. Or else you'll keep believing it."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head in disbelief. "How can you not believe it?"

"Because I don't." She stated simply. "How can you think I'm beautiful?"

"What the hell kinda question is that. Cuz ya are." He defended quickly then grew quiet as he observed her and she offered an infuriating smirk. He shook his head and chuckled. "Point taken."

She stroked his cheeks then tucked the hair behind his ears. "Kiss me, James."

Happily, he dipped his head and captured her lips.

Just after eight in the morning, Sawyer stood with Juliet on the sidewalk outside her hotel. Her suitcase packed and at her side, a carryon draped over her shoulder, she clicked the button on the handle of her suitcase and lowered the handle. A cabbie took the bag and packed it into the trunk.

Sawyer watched with an impending dread. He knew her only twelve hours and yet to face the world ahead without her petrified him. The only person on the god forsaken planet who believed in him, and he had to let go. But even if he wanted to change – if he did change – she deserved better than him. He had to change. Because even if he would never have her, he'd at least become the man she believed him to be. For a one night stand, this was growing increasingly difficult.

Juliet lowered her carryon bag into the backseat of the cab. Drawing out the moment, she gathered her courage and her strength. She never had a one night stand before; this entire situation new. She knew these nights occurred with no strings attached, no promises, no future. Why did she believe in the delirium that more could come from the night? Why did she want more from this man? This criminal? She should have run the moment he confessed, yet she couldn't, drawn to him by some internal connection that still boggled her.

Three times that night, he made love to her. Well, the first time was more just primal need that turned into a healing release. The second and third times, however, were far more than just sex. She felt healed, whole, beautiful and absolutely satiated. He made love to her. It surprised her that she could even walk. In the past, she only heard about the stamina of a man and that they could go more than once a night. She never had the experience. Until James.

With a resolute sigh, she turned to face him to say her goodbye. Before she could speak, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her soundly, deeply. A kiss for memory, for both goodbye and a forceful reminder of the last twelve hours of her life. She gripped his shirt, holding him close as she matched his kiss. Her heart ached. Nonsensical, she forced the pain and emotion away. Foolishly, her heart invested, she prepared to leave. Breathless, she pushed him back, eyes closed.

His lips lingered on hers, panting softly. "Ya won't forget me now, will ya, Blondie?"

She chuckled. "Don't think I could."

"Guess this is goodbye."

She nodded slowly and opened her eyes, searching his gaze. He stood before her open, exposed, vulnerable. She wondered if he knew she could so easily read him. What kind of conman displayed himself so completely? One who wanted to change.

She lifted up onto her toes, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in a fierce hug. Her lips at his ear, she whispered to him, soft and trusting. "My name is Juliet Burke. And I work at the Miami University Medical Center. God help you if you use that against me." She teased the last part though her voice trembled.

His arms tightened and he hummed. "You won't regret tellin' me that. I promise, Baby. You won't regret it."

Her hands tightened on the back of his shirt for a barely a second before she released him and pushed back. She kissed him once more, softly and tenderly, engraving the moment in her mind and hopefully his.

Sawyer sighed against her mouth, drowning in the emotions flooding his senses. All too quickly, she ended the kiss and without a second glance, dove into the cab and shut the door. Another second and he would have clung to her and refused to release. This was best. She had a life, a place to be and he had to get his shit together. The cab drove off and he turned away, raking the hair from his eyes.

What the hell did he do now?


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Juliet shoved her carryon bag into the overhead compartment over her seat on the direct flight from Las Vegas to Miami. From the front pocket of her bag, she pulled a travel crossword puzzle book and a pencil, dropping them into her seat before zipping the pocket, ensuring the bag safe for the flight. Closing the compartment, she took her seat and buckled herself in for takeoff. Beside her sat a young skinny stick of a woman who leaned heavily into her traveling partner. The man next to her could not keep his hands to himself, constantly touching her leg then side then arm. The woman giggled and turned into her companion, kissing and nuzzling him.

Great.

She wasn't a bitter old woman but considering her current state of mind, she was not in the mood to endure the nearly six hour flight next to a couple on the verge of having sex in their seats. She tucked her crossword puzzle book into the back pocket of the seat in front of her.

After takeoff, the hum of the jet engines efficiently drowned out the giggling and flirting of the couple beside her. She took the crossword puzzles from the seat pouch and opened them on her lap, flipping through until she found an empty puzzle. Puzzle # 65

Across - 7 letter word for desperate

Juliet slammed closed the crossword puzzle book and shoved it back into the seat pocket. Maybe she'd try to catch up on her sleep. Courtesy of her guest last night, she hardly slept. Not that she wanted to complain. Her body sang in the aftermath of the wonderful pleasures that wracked her. She never felt so complete, so satiated and satisfied in her life. Before last night, she never would have guessed what physically lacked in her past.

Her experiences with men limited, Juliet felt lost in the sensations and demands he made upon her and yet she could not deny him his every want. She harbored no shame, no regret. When the sun rose, a new Juliet awoke in that room entangled in the arms of a man she'd known for a total of under twelve hours. The meek, nervous, frightened woman she once was had weakened.

Her insecurities remained; she felt them. Uncertainty, self consciousness, weakness, vulnerability, passiveness all existed within her and pulsed strongly. However over the course of the evening, James dug into her heart, tore up the crumbled ruins of a woman destroyed and cleared it all away. In its place, he erected a simple foundation. A slab of cement buried what lingered of Edmund's words, actions and her own self depreciating thoughts. Now she had to build the house.

The materials existed within her for the construction; however Edmund's words and actions bored into and weakened the integrity of each material as termites through wood. Rust to iron. Weathering to masonry. She needed new materials. But how could she dispose of so many wasted resources and where would she find the necessary items to rebuild herself.

Juliet tilted her head away from the couple that shared her row and watched the flight attendant at the front of the cabin. Her eyes half closed, she fought the urge to sleep. Why would she fight it? At least in sleep she wouldn't dwell on the fact she was a pathetic disgrace to women. With a long and heavy sigh, she closed her eyes.

_The roll of the sea, the crashing of waves roused her. Sweet salt air invaded her lungs, a warm breeze caressed her. She opened her eyes. On her back, she stared up at a canopy of lush tree tops, beams of sunlight peeking through the spaces between the branches. She shifted slightly, adjusting to the uneven ground; she lay on sand. Her hands fisted the blanket she lay upon then released, the scratchy fabric forcing the hair on the back of her neck to tickle._

_Her head tilted back slightly to look at the line of trees between jungle and beach. Glancing one way then the next, she absorbed her surroundings, every sense firing at the realistic stimulation. Lifting up onto her forearms, she looked to her right. Vivid blue water pounded the shore in an unending assault upon the sand. White sand stood out in stark contrast to the scattered darkened rocks, blue water and nearby lush green of the jungle. She looked the other way and smiled at the expanse of beach. Peaceful, relaxing._

_She sat up fully and smiled at the abandoned beach. Was it the Caribbean? Maybe Hawaii. Her own private getaway. She looked down at herself and chuckled at her attire. A black bra and white pair of shorts. Not exactly what she would wear but with a private beach, why not? She pivoted her ankle, effectively burying her feet into the sand, enjoying the coarse contrast against her smooth skin as the grains pressed under her nails when she wiggled her toes._

_Biting her lip, she gave in to the temptation and stood, racing down to the water. Stepping over the breakers she dove into the waves, swimming out past the shoal until the bottom dropped away and she treaded water. She ducked under the water again, tilting her head back so when she surfaced, her hair slicked back. She turned to face the shoreline of her heavenly escape, eyes on the long empty length of beach, the point where she awoke the only sign of human company._

_A large blue blanket lay out on the sand, the corners weighted down with rocks. A towel hung over a draping tree branch about ten feet from the blanket. Underneath the towel sat a satchel, stuffed to the point of bursting with something unknown. Beside the satchel rested a large brown bottle. Curious, she swam back towards the shore._

_She paused in her swim as a man emerged from the jungle twenty feet from her blanket. Tall with long hair just past his shoulders, the stranger stood at the edge of the jungle, eyes scanning the beach. He stared at the blanket and towel a long moment before looking out into the water. The man wore a buttoned down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and an old pair of tattered jeans. He was barefoot. His long hair blew in the breeze, the front and sides tied back to keep from his face. He put his hands on his hips, shifting his weight onto one foot as he stared out at the water._

_Juliet watched as he turned from the water to walk towards the towel and satchel. He crouched down, peering into the bag. She returned to shore, standing just before the break point of the waves. Water rolled off her body and into the surf; she raked her hair back, wringing out the long tendrils. Her bra and shorts clung to her, leaving little to the imagination though kept her hidden well enough._

_A confident and strong Juliet existed here, unabashed and unashamed of her body. She strolled out of the water, her voice calm control. "Can I help you?"_

_The man turned his head quickly at the voice, glancing back over his shoulder._

_Her brow furrowed. She recognized the face. "James?"_

_He stood and smiled brightly, eyes slowly scanning down her body then up again. "Well hey there."_

_She matched his smile and approached him with more confidence. "I didn't recognize you." She reached up to touch his hair, fingers brushing along the tips at his shoulders._

"_So, goin' for a dip?"_

"_Yeah," she looked out at the ocean, eyes calm in awe. "I don't think I've ever seen a place so beautiful."_

"_It's something'," he drawled and reached down into the satchel. "Well well, what have we here?"_

_She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as the warm island breeze washed over her. Still wet, she shivered at the contrast in temperature. "What?"_

"_Mangos."_

"_What?" Surprised, she turned and walked towards him, peeking over his shoulder. He reached into the satchel and pulled out a mango, handing it to her over his shoulder. She took the fruit, laughing. _

_He smirked and reached into his front pocket. Pulling out a pocket knife, he handed that to her as well before picking up the bottle beside the sack. "Mmm, good taste there." He stood with the bottle of rum and walked to the blanket. He placed the bottle on the blanket then unbuttoned his shirt. "If yer gonna be half naked, I am too."_

_She grinned as he tugged the shirt off and dropped it in the sand. "You're more tanned than I remember."_

_He stretched out on his stomach on the blanket, feet towards the water. "So are you, Blondie."_

"_Really?" She glanced down at herself, examining the skin on her arms and shoulders. Maybe she was more tanned._

"_Ya look good," He said simply as he pulled the rum towards him. Longer than the blanket, his feet hung off the edge, toes digging into the sand as he fiddled with the cap of the rum finally opening the bottle. "Ah, liquid gold," He took a long drink of the alcohol._

_Juliet watched him with burning affection and knelt down on the blanket. She lay down, pillowing her head in the small of his back, perpendicular to him. Turning the mango in her hands, she flicked open his pocketknife. "You allergic to poison ivy?"_

"_What?"_

_She turned her head slightly to look at him as he glanced back over his shoulder at her. "You allergic to poison ivy?"_

_Confused at the question, he chuckled and shifted, flipping onto his back. "I dunno. Why you gonna get me on my back in a patch?"_

_She laughed and lay her head on his stomach. "I'm asking because if you are, I'll peel the mango for you, but if you aren't, you can eat the skin and be alright."_

_He laughed. "I ain't eatin' mango skin, woman. Tastes like shit. Peel it."_

_Rolling her eyes, she carefully peeled the mango, throwing the skin into the jungle. Once fully peeled, she cut him a large piece of the flesh then rotated slightly, reaching over to feed it to him._

_His eyes closed as he opened his mouth, biting through the ripe flesh, leaving half in her hand. He smirked, chewing. She brought the rest of the piece of mango to her lips to eat. He hummed at the sight. "Mmm, tastes good. Ya know, I recall you sayin' something about me tastin' like mangos."_

"_No, I believe it was me asking you if a part of you tasted like mangos."_

_He shrugged casually, tucking his arms behind his head to prop himself up slightly. "I don't know. Tuck that mango into my pants, rub it a bit and we'll see."_

_She cut another piece of fruit, holding it to his lips. He held her eyes, taking the fruit fully in his mouth, lips brushing her fingers in the process. She blushed and cut a piece for herself. In comfortable silence, she continued to feed him. His hand rested on her exposed stomach, tracing random patterns, fingers warm and calloused._

_His eyes closed. He enjoyed the mango, her presence, the beach, the peace, the sound of the waves. Heaven. Juliet sighed contently, comforted beside him. She dug her feet into the sand, knees bent as she relaxed into him. She threw the mango pit into the jungle and placed his pocket knife aside. _

_He grinned. "If you're sticky, I'll lick ya clean."_

_She quirked a brow, eyeing him at the words and a slow smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "That so? I could always just go for another swim."_

"_Aw, but we're so comfortable."_

"_I'll be right back," she smiled brightly and pushed up to her feet. She walked back to the crashing waves, leaning over to rinse her hands in the surf. Sticky juices gone, she returned to him, thrilled at his piercing and intense gaze, focused solely on her. "I love the way you look at me."_

"_And how's that?"_

_She lay down on the blanket again, pillowing her head on his stomach. When his hand rested on her abdomen, she twined her fingers with his. "I don't know. I just like it."_

"_Well I like lookin' at you."_

_His words warmed her and she closed her eyes, relaxed and calmed in the moment. His breath slow and deep, he dozed. At his rhythmic and steady breath, she matched him, her breath and his synchronized. As her body relaxed, a sudden sensation of falling rushed through her senses and she startled._

Juliet startled awake as the plane dipped, shaking with turbulence. As soon as it began, it ended. A loud bing resounded through the cabin as the captain flicked on the fasten seatbelt sign. She glanced up at the lit signage of the seatbelt, confused. The island, James, mangos.

Saddened, she sighed. Of course it was a dream. Two rows ahead, the flight attendants held the service cart and locked the brake, serving lunch to all the passengers. She checked her wristwatch. 11:25 am. Still Las Vegas time.

She removed the watch and pulled out the pin, changing the time to the local Miami time a couple hours ahead.

* * *

Sawyer's eyes slowly opened and he stared up at the smoke stained ceiling of his hotel room. Laying on his bed, fully dressed, he searched the ceiling, the fog of his mind slowly clearing. What happened? He was on an island and Juliet was there feeding him mangos. And she looked sexy as hell and they were just relaxing, dozing and then suddenly she was gone.

He sat up on the bed and rubbed his face, staring blankly at the television screen. A documentary on the beaches of Hawaii aired on the travel channel. That must be what triggered the dream. He leaned forward, shutting off the television then flopped back on the bed. He sighed, staring at the ceiling, mind racing. Lifting his hand, he checked his wrist watch.

11:25 am.


	7. Chapter 7

Note: Thanks so much for all the reviews and the support. I haven't given up on my stories, just working through the kinks and my beta has been busy moving into a new apartment. Enjoy this chapter and by all means, review me again.

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Juliet stood at the baggage carrousel, waiting patiently for her checked luggage. Sighing softly, she dug through her purse, pulling out her cell phone. Searching through the address book, she selected her sister and dialed. She hoisted her carryon higher onto her shoulder and leaned into her hip as she held the phone to her ear. The phone rang three times.

"Hello?"

Juliet smiled at the familiar voice. "Hi, Rach. It's me. I just landed, oh, fifteen minutes ago."

"Hey! How was the flight? How was your trip?"

"It was fine," Juliet answered cryptically. "Just waiting on my bags now."

"Oh ok, you shouldn't be that much longer. I took a thing of sauce out of the freezer this morning because I knew you'd be home and I knew you wouldn't have anything at your place to eat. Come over. I wanna hear all about the trip. Was the maggot there?"

Juliet sighed. "Edmund was there. Look the bags are coming, I don't want to miss mine. I'll be by in about an hour."

"Drive safe. I fixed up the guest bed in case you wanted to just crash here tonight."

Juliet checked her wrist watch. Just before seven in the evening. "Rachel, we live in the same apartment building."

"So? Maybe you don't have clean sheets. You sure you ok to drive?"

"Yes," Juliet chuckled. "And I do have clean sheets. It's not that far home. Look I gotta go. The thing started moving. I'll see you soon."

"Alright."

Click

Juliet smiled softly, calmed at her sister's slightly neurotic yet affectionate voice. She tucked her phone back into her purse and waited with patience as the checked luggage slowly passed. She reached down as a bag passed and turned it over to look at the front. She released the bag to let it pass.

Fifteen minutes later, Juliet sat on the tram which shuttled travelers between terminals and the various parking lots. Her eyes focused across from her on the vivid white door of the tram. Arms and legs crossed, she lifted a hand to her mouth, tugging thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

Was it possible for her body to still hum from its treatment at his hands? Obviously, it was; her nerves still fired at simply the thought of him. What a sad pathetic mess she was to be dwelling on a one night stand! The whole point of a one night stand was the one night aspect. And yet she clung to the unrealistic prospect of more growing from one night.

Starved for affection, male admiration and acceptance, she craved the glimpse of possibilities James offered her. She clung to the memories of the night, unwilling to release the burning emotions lingering from his touch and most importantly, his words. Unconventional, sometimes crass but blatantly to the point, he revitalized her with both acts and speech. Who could blame her for wanting to hold on to that?

The Juliet from before the convention – weak, meek, timid – would obsess, cling and hope to something that could never be. That wasn't new Juliet. New Juliet would take hold of the gift given and claim it her own. She let the previous evening finally completely sink into her mind.

Juliet stood from her seat on the tram, pulling her luggage behind her as she walked from the tram and to the parking garage. Head high, shoulders squared and chest out, she walked with confidence and pride. Her heels clicked rhythmically on the pavement. She was beautiful. She was smart. She had a career, a sister and someone somewhere that believed in her unconditionally.

She buried 'Old Juliet' in that dingy, dank and dilapidated bar back in Vegas. A bar whose name she couldn't even remember. With a dimpled smile, piercing eyes and an extended hand, James pulled her from the wreckage, leaving the ruins of her old self in a place never to be revisited.

Like a phoenix, she resurrected.

Juliet smiled as she neared her car and took the keys from her purse. Opening the trunk, she lifted her suitcase and carryon, setting them inside before walking to the driver's side. Slipping into the car, she started the ignition. Her CD player spun and whirred before flashing. Petula Clark's 'Downtown' played, halfway through the song.

_And you may find somebody kind to help and understand you  
Someone who is just like you and needs a gentle hand to  
Guide them along_

She laughed, eyes bright as she thought of James. Maybe fate brought them together that night after all. She glanced in her rear view mirror, adjusting it. She shifted the car into reverse and turned, placing her hand over the back of the passenger seat and eased out of the parking spot.

* * *

Juliet rapped softly on the door to Rachel's apartment. She waited patiently, a bag of warm crusty bread in her arms. Rachel shuffled around the apartment then gave a quick call to the door as if to ensure Juliet would not walk away because it took her longer than ten seconds to respond. The door swung open and Rachel smiled brightly. "There you are!" The smile fell to a narrowed frown. "You're late. You said one hour and it's nearly one and a half."

Juliet laughed. "Nice to see you too, Rachel. Thank you so much for inviting me over for supper especially after such a long flight."

Rachel rolled her eyes and reached out for the bag of bread. Carrying the bag into the apartment, she placed it on the counter then turned to Juliet and hugged her tightly. "How are you? How was it? You should have called me last night; I didn't know where you were. It wasn't like you not to call."

Juliet smiled and returned the embrace with warmth before easing her sister back. She looked down and with a soft chuckle, placed her hand on her sister's swollen stomach. "And how is our little one?"

Rachel's eyes softened as she rubbed a hand over her stomach. "He's doing just fine. I can't believe I'm already six months along. It seems like just last week we were doing the injections and everything was so uncertain."

Juliet nodded and felt along the underside of Rachel's stomach.

Using an expression very like her sister's, Rachel lifted a brow. "Juliet? I didn't ask you over here for a consultation. I made pasta."

Blushing, Juliet pulled her hand back. "Sorry. It's just been a week and I wanted to make sure everything was going as planned."

"Everything is fine." Rachel walked into the kitchen, knowing Juliet would follow. "So tell me everything. I want to know from the beginning. So you landed in Las Vegas and …" she trailed off, waiting for Juliet to fill in the blanks.

Juliet chuckled, sitting on the bar stool at the counter as Rachel poured half a box of dried pasta into the boiling water. "Why would you want every sordid detail of my conference?"

"Because sometimes it's better than watching TV. Especially the way you tell it. How's maggot?" Rachel placed a cutting board in front of Juliet and then a bread knife.

Juliet pulled out the crusty bread from the bag and laid it on the cutting board. "Edmund … was fine. He was surprisingly civil when I saw him, thank God. But he has to be. I mean what's he going to do really?" She waved the knife a moment then pointed it towards Rachel. "I make him the most money, pull in the most grants. I don't know why I was worried about him; of course he'd play nice."

Rachel blinked, frozen at the stove a moment before glancing over her shoulder at her sister. She turned and put her hands on her hips. "I have been telling you that for two years and it finally sinks in! About damn time." She turned back to the stove to stir the pasta.

Juliet smirked softly, head ducked as she cut the bread. "Yeah well, I guess I finally realized it. But he brought Gwen with him." Her face scrunched in disgust. "You'd think he'd have the class not to flaunt his personal secretary around a medical convention but Edmund was never one to think with his brain."

"Yeah, he used a different head."

Resisting a laugh, Juliet nodded as she cut half the bread then put the rest of the loaf back into the bread bag. "Anyway, it was very informative. And I saw some people I haven't seen in over a year and that was nice."

"That's it? You were in Vegas for a week and it was informative. Really?"

"Very informative."

Rachel shook her head. "Not good enough. I want a play by play of what happened. Now spill."

"After dinner. I want to hear about your week. How were the kiddies?"

Rachel grumbled under her breath as she stirred the pasta. "Remind me again why I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher?"

Juliet grinned. "Because you loved children. I do believe that's also the reason you wanted to have a baby. And I hate to say it, but frankly it's a bit too late to change your mind."

With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel slouched. "I know." Then suddenly perked as she turned to Juliet with a bright smile. "They drive me absolutely bonkers but I love them all so. Today we spent half an hour discussing my growing tummy. And I was let into their little lives with tidbits of information I'm sure their parents didn't want me to know."

"Is that so? Like what?"

"Well," Rachel turned back to the stove to stir the sauce. "Remember I told you about Jack Page? The little dark haired boy who thought it was funny to put glue on my seat?"

Juliet laughed. "How could I forget!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me. I was Miss Pink Panties the rest of the week. Anyway, I learned all about little Jack's mom when she had a fat tummy. And how his dad was preggie too because he had a fat tummy. Then he proceeded to recount the entire tale to his mother in front of other mothers."

Brow furrowed, Juliet stood to search the cabinets in order to set the table. "That doesn't sound so bad. It sounds kind of cute."

"Oh it was cute. Except his mother wasn't pregnant and he's the youngest of the family."

Juliet paused then smirked. "Really."

"Really," Rachel strained the pasta and turned the stove off so the sauce didn't stick. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "That little bugger. I hope this little guy is nothing like him. Because I don't know what I'd do."

* * *

The evening continued in calm and comfortable conversation as Rachel spoke about all of the activities with her young class. They cleaned up the dishes and soon lounged out on the couch. Rachel had a steamy cup of hot tea while Juliet held a mug of black coffee.

Rachel watched her sister with budding curiosity. "Alright, your turn now. Play by play of your trip. Go."

Juliet leaned back on the couch and tucked her feet up to sit on them. "Play by play?"

"Yes, day by day. Let's go. So you landed on Wednesday and?"

Placing her coffee mug on the table, Juliet watched her sister and rested her arm on the back of the couch, propping up her head. "It really wasn't all that exciting, you know. Wednesday I got there and checked into my hotel. Met up with Cindy and Shannell for dinner. It was nice seeing them again. Their practice out in Seattle is going well. It was so nice for them to fly in to town to see me; I haven't seen them in five years."

"Yeah, since you married the weasel. They were at the wedding."

Juliet nodded. "Anyway, it was a nice dinner. And on Thursday, the conference started. And it was interesting, of course. I saw the girls again before they flew out on Friday. But we had fun and went to a show."

"What did you see?"

"Blue Man Group."

Rachel barked a laugh. "You saw Blue Man Group? Isn't that the group of creepy all blue guys that just jump around a stage?"

"Basically," Juliet answered. "It wasn't bad. Entertaining and all. Plus Cirque du Soleil was sold out."

"I think I'da rather just blown the money on the slots, but ok."

"Well we had a great time and it was nice to get out with the girls. My three interns came out and were so excited to be there. They had their notebooks and just soaked everything up like a sponge. Greg was presenting, remember, and he was so nervous but he did wonderfully. His nerves were only obvious for the first few minutes. Then he slipped into researcher mode and was just fine. That was Friday."

"You seem to like this kid. He really knows what he's doing, huh?"

"Yeah," Juliet reached for her coffee. "It's really nice to see someone as passionate for this research as I am. He's fascinated with everything we're doing."

"And Saturday?"

Juliet chuckled. "We didn't finish Friday. I took the kids out to dinner that night. We had a nice time and they didn't shut up the entire time about the different presentations. Saturday was the same thing. Sunday was the last day. Went to a bar, had a one night stand and then Monday is today and I flew home and here I am."

Rachel's jaw dropped. "Hold the phone. Hold on. Back up. Saturday was …"

Juliet sighed, averting her eyes. "Saturday was just like the rest of the time. We had three different …"

"I didn't mean clarify there," Rachel interrupts. "I mean I don't think I heard you right. Did you say one night stand?"

"Maybe."

Rachel paused then suddenly smiled. "Ok who are you and what the hell have you done to my baby sister."

Juliet leaned forward, a smile on her face to match her sisters. She rested her elbow on her knee and then bit her lip, before chewing nervously on her nails. "God, Rachel, am I a slut?"

"Of course!" Rachel rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "A one night stand? Really?"

With a sigh, Juliet rolled her eyes. "Yes, Rach. A one night stand. Do you really think I'm a slut?"

"Come off it. No. God, the only man you ever slept with was that sea urchin. So you're what, thirty one, and you've only slept with one man before in your life! That does not define slut."

Chuckling softly, Juliet nodded in agreement, pleased with her sister's words.

"So that's it? You're not going to tell me about him? Throw me a bone! I haven't had sex in two years between being sick and now I'm the size of a house. I have to live vicariously through you. And this life has been pretty boring up until this point. So tell me about him. What's his name? Was he at the convention?"

"Not exactly."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Juliet's evasiveness. "Not exactly. Was he the bell boy? Room service?"

Juliet smiled and leaned forward. "You'd never believe it. I went to a bar down the strip and he kinda butted in when some big oaf of a guy was trying to hit on me. And we just hit it off."

"Name?"

"James."

"Height?"

"I don't know. Just over six foot? Maybe six two?"

"Eyes?"

Juliet laughed. "What are we filling out a form?"

"I want to know everything about this guy. For him to lighten you up and get in your pants, he must have been something magical."

"It kinda was," Juliet blushed. "God that sounds so sappy. But it was just … he was gorgeous, Rach, you should've seen him. He had hazel eyes and his skin was a little tanned and his hair was longer than normal. Like it covered his ears and he had this two days scruff. He was everything you'd think I wouldn't take in a man and it just sort of happened. And good Lord, the way he touched me. And kissed me. I had no idea it could feel that way!"

Rachel grinned broadly. "Well, you didn't exactly have the best experience. Now you know what it's supposed to feel like."

"It was amazing. I didn't want it to end. And it happened more than once. I mean, yeah, technically I knew men could do that but I thought you were lying when you said it really does happen."

"I wouldn't lie to you!" Rachel responded, aghast. "So did he sweep you back to his place? What does he do? Do you know anything else about him?"

Juliet shrugged casually. "Not really. And we went to my place. He walked me back to my hotel. Then he managed convinced me to bring him upstairs and Edmund was there with his flavor of the month. James kissed me right in front of him as he backed me into the bedroom."

Rachel's jaw slackened at the news and her sister's bright flush. She clapped her hands then laughed heartily. "That's beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!"

"Yeah well, I thought it was. Hopefully I won't hear anything about it at work tomorrow."

"Who cares! You're a grown woman and it's not like you stood up the conference for a little slap and tickle."

Juliet met her sister's eyes. "Well …"

"Oh … my … god! You didn't!"

"It was just the farewell cocktail party. It wasn't like I ditched something important."

Rachel laughed again, shaking her head. "Ok … now I really want to know what happened to my sister."

Juliet ducked her head slightly, staring at the grounds of coffee in the bottom of her mug. "I have no idea. But whatever happened. I like it."


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks so much for all the reviews. Please keep them coming. It motivates me to write, which I haven't been doing as much as I like.

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Head ducked, Sawyer stalked down a darkened back alley of one of the rough neighborhoods in Los Angeles. After Juliet left, he lingered in Vegas only three more days, trying to sort out his thoughts and what exactly he'd say to Hibbs. He knew he wanted out, away from the conning, the lying and the cheating. But how exactly he would get out and away was another story. Over three days, he thought and reflected on his situation and the best way to accomplish the seemingly impossible task. Empty handed, he decided to just return to L.A. and play it all by ear.

A stupid idea. He chastised himself as he continued down the dark alley to the seedy bar Hibbs used as a central base, a place he frequented. A place Sawyer always hated. In the past, concocting lies always came easily. Now, he thought of no lie to feed Hibbs. Which meant he had to offer the truth. He could only pray it didn't get him killed.

The further he walked, the darker the alley; no streetlamps flickered, the only light from emergency lighting at the sides of the buildings, illuminating stairs and doors. The strong scent of rotten trash, urine and stale beer invaded his lungs. His stomach churned, throat constricting in the desire to gag but he stamped down the reflex and quickened his pace. He emerged onto a busy night street. Street gangs loitered at opposite corners and he avoided them, knowing the dangers of crossfire in any turf war.

Dodging traffic, he raced across the street, slipping between two parked cars to get to the sidewalk. Trash littered the curb line, some waiting for garbage pick up but most tossed unceremoniously to the ground in a blatant display of arrogant uncaring. He patted his front right pocket in assurance; his wallet was safe.

He slowed his pace as he neared the bar, peering up at the flickering neon sign designating the place. Two letters blackened, the bulbs long burnt out. Patrons lingered outside the bar, each holding their own cigarette, one with a cigar. The scent of alcohol wafted from them indicating the length of time they'd been present at the bar.

Sawyer ducked around them and into the back alley, leading to the side entrance of the bar. Walking up the three steps, he pounded on the side door. 'Employees only' scrawled hastily over the door in black paint along with a cheap 'No Entry' sign on the rattled garage door. He knocked again.

Violently, the door swung open and Sawyer glanced up, meeting the hostile eyes of Hibbs latest bouncer. The tall man narrowed his eyes, muscles flexing in some peacock display. Unflinching, Sawyer held the gaze. The man spoke. "He's been waiting for you."

"I know," Sawyer responded simply then followed the man inside.

* * *

Sawyer fiddled with the key to his hotel room. Shoving open the door, he stepped into the musty room, flicking on the light. The bulbs flickered in protest and poor illumination, but offered enough light to navigate the stale and dilapidated room. Expression sour, jaw swelling, he leaned back against the door until it shut then finally released the breath he held.

He rubbed his jaw, pushing off the door to walk further into the room. He tossed his wallet on a rickety nearby table, slightly tilted with an uneven leg. He pushed the button for the television, a blurred and multi colored channel flickered into view, lines wavering in the picture from the hacked cable. He tilted his head to make out the picture. Likely a skin channel, porn. He left it on.

He paced the length of the room, pulling a box of cigarettes from his back pocket. He tapped the box in the palm of his hand then opened the lid, removing the last cigarette. He put the cigarette between his lips and crunched up the empty box in his hands, tossing it towards the small garbage bin at the entrance to the bathroom. He missed.

Walking to the window, he picked up a pack of matches from the ashtray on the table and with trembling hands, struck a match and lit his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, eyes closed as he shook the flame away and dropped the burnt match into the ashtray.

Eyes still closed, he quickly smoked half the cigarette before his nerves calmed. He smoked the cigarette almost to the filter before snuffing it out. Exhaling slowly, he savored the last puff then walked to the bed. Sitting on the edge, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as he watched the cheap porno through the squiggly lines and strange pink and green colors.

Endless minutes passed as he watched the screen and the scene playing out though his mind wandered from what his eyes absorbed. Resting his chin in his hands, he looked away from the screen and at the leaning table with his wallet. The ashtray rested on a yellowed pad of paper – once white – with the emblem of the hotel at the top. He stood, and searched the room.

Looking in the various drawers, under the bed and then along the back of the television, he finally found a black ballpoint pen. Grimacing, he reached behind the television, fingers brushing along unidentifiable grime, dust and crusty particles. He snarled and fisted the pen, pulling it back and away. He stalked from the television and sat on the faded cushioned chair at the table. Moving the ashtray aside, he brought the paper to him, tilted it slightly and thought, tapping his pen on the pad.

He leaned back in the chair, staring at the tobacco stained ceiling, pen still tapping rhythmically. The woman on the television moaned and groaned as she coaxed the man with her. The sounds faded to the back of his mind and he leaned forward, pen to paper as he wrote:

_November 13, 2001_

_Dear Juliet,_

_Well, I did it. I went to him today and told him I was out. I almost chickened out. Walking to his place, you go through a neighborhood any sane person wouldn't be caught in during the day. And here I stalked through it at night. But I got there and when I arrived, he was waiting for me. He knew what I did._

_He knew I didn't follow through with the con. Knew I left him high and dry and knew something was up when it took me nearly a week to come back after my mark left for New York. Let's just say, he was pretty pissed._

_He had the place all decked out to intimidate me but I was thinking that if I couldn't go through with this, then what the hell was I? So I swallowed it all down and followed his muscle meat down into the cellar of the bar. He converted the basement of the strip club into a working office, so to speak, though the noise from upstairs often drowned out a lot of what was going on._

_The room was dark. He did that on purpose, sitting in a slight shadow because he thinks he looks tough that way. I'm on to him though, so it didn't work. He called me on blowing the con and accused me of owing him money. I told him I didn't owe him Jack Shit. You can imagine how happy he was for that response. And his bouncer butt buddy clobbered me across the jaw for it. Didn't knock me out or nothing but it hurt like hell and knocked me off my feet. Kind of embarrassing actually, getting knocked to the floor when you're trying to stare down a man. Course he didn't have the balls to do it himself._

_Anyway, I told him I was done, that I wanted out and couldn't do it anymore. So he tried to extort me. Threw something in my face from years ago, but he had nothing on me and I called him on it. I was pushing dangerous lines here. The asshole always hated taking no for an answer and I was giving him a pretty loud no. Plus, I was his best. Hate to admit that, but I was. I was able to get the big bucks and with me bowing out, he's losing money._

_Let's just say he wasn't too pleased with that prospect. He stood from his desk and sauntered towards me, trying to act all big and tough. Frankly, I wasn't sure what to expect. Desperate men do desperate things, especially crooks when their income is in jeopardy._

_He stood right in front of me, looked me right in the eye then pulled a gun from the back of his pants and pointed it at my head. I never thought he'd do that, pull a gun on me. This guy has been the closest thing that I ever had to a brother and even a friend. Guess you never know a man til you threaten his wallet. So there he was pointing that god damn gun at my head and I was thinking, this is it. I'm gonna die unknown and probably stuffed in a trunk, shot in the face in the basement of a skin bar and buried in cement._

_I thought of you and everything I promised I'd do. I knew I couldn't let him win and I had nothing to lose. Really, what do I have but the clothes on my back? So I did the stupidest thing I could think of. I grinned at him, leaned forward and taunted him._

_I told him 'Go ahead then'. And in the rush of the moment, I took a step closer and wrapped my lips around the barrel, teeth clenched on the metal and I was just praying he wouldn't pull the trigger. But it was all the leverage I had. After all, how can you intimidate a man who isn't afraid to die? And it was a damn leap of faith I took that he wouldn't pull the trigger._

_But I was trusting everything that I've learned about him over the years. He's a chicken shit, never does his own dirty work. I was more worried about him accidently pulling the trigger than intentionally doing it. Like most conmen. They don't go for the violence. They go for the game._

_So there I was, lips around the barrel of a damn 9 mil, praying to whoever the fuck would listen to me that my brains wouldn't end up staining the rug. And I stared him down._

_Since I'm writing this, it's obvious __it worked__ he didn't pull the trigger. Jerked the gun away and told me to get the fuck out of his face. And if I even thought of returning, I'd have to beg him for work. Fucker chipped my tooth, I think. I got outta there alive. I can't believe it._

_One step down. Now I gotta figure out what the hell I'm gonna do next and where I'm gonna go. Ain't figured that out yet. It's late tonight, and needless to say, I'm still pretty jittery. Maybe I'll go grab a beer to celebrate._

_James Ford_

Sawyer looked down at the long winded note he felt compelled to write. He wouldn't mail it to her, never. But he felt healed putting the words down, as if telling her. He folded the note up and tucked it into the breast front pocket of his jacket. Kicking off his boots, he tugged down the comforter of the bed and snarled at the chewed holes in the sheets of the bed.

He had to get out of L.A. But where would he go? What could he possibly do? He had no skills other than robbing and conning. He'd figure it out in the morning.

Fully dressed, he stretched out on the bed and casually watched the skin flick until his heavy eyelids finally dropped.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Juliet slipped into the driver's side of her car and closed the door, pausing to stare out the windshield at the cement wall of the parking garage. She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. A slow smile pulled at her lips and giddiness swelled within her. She laughed, whole hearted and bright, head tilting back against the headrest of her seat. Reaching into the purse, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed quickly.

The phone rang once. Again. Again.

"Hello?"

Juliet smiled. "I did it."

"You didn't!"

"I did! Rach, you shoulda seen the look on his face." She slowly shook her head. "I mean I don't think he knew what to do."

"Did he just kinda blubber and fumble with that duck face?"

Juliet's smile broadened. "Yeah, kinda. Oh but it was beautiful. It really was."

"I want details! Where are you now? In your office?"

"No, in the car." Juliet answered. "I finished in the lab for the day and no classes or students."

"My place. Now."

Juliet laughed. "Not now. It's only three o'clock. I'm going to head to the gym first. See you for supper, yeah?"

"You are not seriously going to make me wait two hours to hear the story, are you?"

"Yes, I am." Juliet glanced in the rear view mirror, adjusting it then fluffed her hair. "I won't even be two hours. I'll be an hour there tops then shower and I'll be there by five, the latest. I promise."

A heavy, exaggerated sigh huffed through the speaker of the cell. "Fine. Be that way. I still can't believe this is my new and improved sister. You know when you came back two weeks ago, a part of me thought it wasn't going to last."

"Me too, Rach. Me too."

"Yeah, well, I'm glad we were wrong. So Five o'clock. No later! Or I'm breaking into your apartment to stalk you for details."

Juliet laughed. "Understood. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

Click

Juliet closed her cell phone and tossed it back into her purse. Smile still in place, she started the car, twisted to look behind her and backed out of her parking spot.

At 5:12 pm, Juliet knocked on her sister's front door. Immediately, the door opened and Rachel stood with arms crossed, eyes narrowed. "Twelve minutes, twenty six seconds late."

Juliet laughed. "You've been counting the seconds."

"Twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine."

Shaking her head, Juliet stepped inside. "It's wonderful to see you too, Rachel. Thank you so much for having me over for dinner."

"You have kept me waiting over two hours and I'm nearly ready to burst. So cut all the crap, and spill. We have another half hour or so until the chili's done."

"Can I at least have a glass of wine?"

"No. It's not fair I can't drink and you can."

Juliet smirked and reached into the brown bag in her hand. "I thought you'd say that." And pulled out a bottle of red wine. "Now get me a glass, or no story. I have to celebrate."

Grumbling her disapproval, Rachel stomped into the kitchenette and pulled a wine glass from one of the cupboards. "I'm not dusting it out."

Juliet dug through a drawer near the sink to pull out a corkscrew. "Dust never hurt wine." She opened the bottle then poured herself a full glass, smile still in place.

Rachel sighed loudly, jerking open the fridge to pull out a can of seltzer. "Couch. Now. And spill."

Chuckling, Juliet walked to the couch and sat down, legs crossed as she took a long sip of the wine. "Edmund finally approached me today about the new grant we've been working on. Well in the past, he would always do this and that and change half my grant proposal until at one point we weren't even doing the research I wanted to do."

Rachel nods, eyes narrowed in hostility. "That conniving bastard."

Juliet resisted the rising laugh and continued. "Well he tried doing it again, just like I told you he would do. And I shot him down. I said, 'No, Edmund, we don't need that new machine for the experiments we're trying to conduct. Instead we should buy this and that and that and then get some interns.' I think he nearly shit his pants."

"Men," Rachel scoffed and shook her head. "They just like shiny things. They don't think about the process."

"Oh no, Edmund thinks about the process. Just not my process. That machine wouldn't be used for my research; it's for something completely different in gene splicing and genetics. Though you could technically argue you could use it in reproductive studies, that's not its intent. He was trying to weasel a pet project into my grant proposal. And I told him to piss off."

Rachel paused and then laughed. "Oh my God, did you really say 'Piss off?'"

"Well no, not in those exact words. But he got the idea. I don't think he knew what to do though."

"So he just kinda what?"

Juliet chuckled and sipped her wine. "I don't know. He just blinked a few times at me and then frowned and what else could he say? I mean when it came down to it, I was right and it's my name on the grant proposal this time and as the leader of the project."

Rachel nodded slowly, frowning. "Be careful though. He's a real sneaky bastard. You don't want him dicking around with your proposal, changing it or anything."

"Oh don't worry. It's all coming right from me and I'm mailing it directly myself. I won't let him touch it anymore or ever again. Yeah, so he's my boss, but that doesn't matter. I bring so much money to the place, he won't do anything. And my publications make the university look better and better."

Rachel leaned forward. "So what did his face look like? Was it like …" she opened her mouth into an 'O', cheeks sucked in and eyes squinted shut. "Or was it more like the Home Alone thing." She then clapped her hands to the side of her face, eyes widened as she opened her mouth wide in mock scream.

Juliet smirked and shook her head. "Neither really. I can't do the face he did. It was just one of shock."

"Oh, like his jaw dislodged."

"Kinda," Juliet chuckled. "You're pretty obsessed with what he looked like."

"Of course I am! Every time I saw him he had that cocky bastard smug look on his face and I'm just dying to see him with a puss!"

Juliet frowned. "Don't say that. You're dying to see. I don't want to hear you say something like that?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Lighten up, Juliet. The cancer is gone, I'm healthy and I'm fine. It's just an expression and you know it."

"I just don't want to hear you say that ok? I thought about it enough during the treatment, I don't want to be reminded."

Rachel reached out and rested a hand on Juliet's knee. "Less about me and more about the great bald beetle."

Juliet couldn't help the smile on her lips at the name. "That's a new one."

Rachel squeezed her sister's knee. "I'm still very creative. I have to keep it up you know. So tell me more about this whole encounter." She sat back. "I want a vision in my mind." She offered a lavish hand gesture, eyes closing.

Juliet laughed. "My God, I don't know what else to say. Other than I called him on his shit in front of my interns and his boss. Which explains why he couldn't say anything back."

Rachel watched Juliet and slowly shook her head, smiling softly. "God you have changed. I guess that's the secret isn't it?"

Juliet matched her sister's smile. "What secret?"

"You just need a hot guy to bang the hell out of you to set your life on track."

Blushing, Juliet ducked her head and laughed.

"Ah, there's still some of that old Juliet in you!" Rachel laughed then pushed up from the couch to check the chili.

* * *

Sawyer's head bobbed slightly as he stared out the windshield of his car at the darkened highway road. Exhaustion threatened him and he knew he should get off the road. Especially at the late hour. He shook his head and turned the radio up louder, blasting the hard rock. Hopefully the music would keep him awake and not give him a headache.

About five miles down the road, he pulled off the highway and into a truck stop. He debated sleeping in the car but nights in December in Oklahoma could drop below freezing. He opted instead to take the adjacent highway exit and merged out of the truck stop and onto the exit ramp. At the end of the ramp, a bright sign to the right identified a row of cheap highway motels.

He was surprised he had the energy to check in and drag his sorry ass up the stairs to a room. Just after midnight, he was ready to collapse, but he'd been driving for nearly fifteen hours straight and his eyes started to cross as he stared at the road. Pushing into his hotel room, he flicked on the light and smiled.

A single king size bed sat at the center of the clean and likely recently refurbished room. He dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and closed the door behind him, locking the chain. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, tossing it onto a chair at the corner and groaned in relief when he sat down. He tugged off his boots, dropping them casually onto the floor.

He forced himself to his feet again, eyes half closed as he stripped off his shirt and pants, heedless to where they fell on the floor. He'd worry about that in the morning. In his boxers, he hummed contently as he crawled onto the bed and flopped onto his stomach, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

_Moaning, wincing, Sawyer stirred. Fingers clenched, digging into the moist earth beneath him; he lay on his back. Pushing up, he rested back on his forearms, blinking to open his eyes. Lush green jungle surrounded him, the scent fresh and earthen. He pushed to his feet, wiping the vegetation debris from his hands onto his pants as he turned, taking in his surroundings._

_He brushed off the back of his pants and the sleeves of his shirt. Tropical birds called and sang from the canopy as insects chirped and hummed in harmony. He reached over his head, stretching the sore muscles of his back. Spotting a narrow path through the brush, Sawyer followed the direction. _

_Ducking under low tree branches and stepping gingerly over roots, he continued down the path, curious to its destination. A sense of familiarity overwhelmed him, confused him. A loud squeal startled him and he crouched quickly, alerted and cautious. Glancing to his right, he hopped off the path and ducked into the brush, hiding and observing._

_Hidden in the brush, his view obscured by the vegetation, he peered along the path. Birds ceased to sing; Sawyer frowned. Snorting and grunting echoed from the clearing down the path to the North – he assumed it was the north from the position of the sun. Since when had he been aware of such things? He waited extended minutes before finally crawling from his hiding place and stalking along the side of the path to the clearing._

_At the clearing's edge, he crouched low, pressed against the rough bark of a looming tree. Peering around the side, he searched the tall grasses of the clearing. Little visible through the brush, he waited. Grunting and snorting resounded and he stretched slightly to peer over the blades of grass. A large wild boar dug in the mud, using its snout and tusks to dig up roots._

_Movement to the right caught his attention and his eyes widened as a huge lumbering polar bear stalked into the clearing, downwind of the boar. Frozen, he watched as the bear lunged forward, racing towards the boar. Startled, the boar dug its hooves into the mud and raced towards the left. The bear followed._

_The bear leapt towards the boar, both beasts rolling into denser brush and out of sight. He looked around quickly for a means of escape. Creeping to the right and away from the beasts, he stepped carefully and cautiously. He glanced back to the clearing once more._

_Juliet stepped out of the jungle and into the clearing only about twenty yards from the bear. Disoriented and confused, she looked around the clearing. Sawyer's eyes widened and he rushed to the clearing. He waved his hands, trying to get her attention._

_She looked up and smiled at him, waving. The bear looked up as well and roared._

"_Run!" Sawyer called and then jumped into the clearing, waving his hands at the bear. "Here. Hey, ya ball a fur. Over here! Come on!"_

_The bear turned its attention to Sawyer and raced to him. Wide eyed, Sawyer turned and ran._

"_James!" She called in worry. The bear, undeterred, chased Sawyer. She took a step in their direction but instead looked frantically around her. Picking up a rock the size of her fist, she tested its weight then followed._

_Sawyer scanned the landscape ahead of him quickly and then scrambled up a tree. The bear closed in and reached out, a big paw swatting at the man's leg. Sawyer howled in pain as the claws tore at his leg, breaking flesh. He ignored the pain and kicked out his leg, the sole of his boot impacting the bear's nose. _

_The beast roared and shook its head at the strike. Sawyer pulled himself up higher and sat in the T of the trunk and a large branch. Blood leaked from his leg, swirling down his ankle then slowly dripped from the heel of his boot and onto the bear's looming head._

_Juliet neared the scene and bit back her gasp when Sawyer leapt into the tree and the bear clawed him. She tucked the rock close to her chest and turned to the nearest tree, grunting as she pulled herself up into its branches. Aiming at the bear, she threw the rock. With a free hand, she climbed further up the tree._

_The rock hit the bear's hip and the beast turned towards Juliet. With a loud roar, it circled the base of her tree. She swallowed hard, watching the bear a moment then looked up and across the path towards Sawyer. She smiled weakly. "Hi."_

_Sawyer winced, shifting his weight and he pulled up the leg of his pants to look at his calf. He glanced up at her and smiled softly. "Hey."_

_She watched him, worried while keeping an eye on the circling bear at the base of the tree. The bear paced between her tree and Sawyer's across the way. She settled into the tree, ensuring her grip was sound. "How's your leg?"_

"_I'll live."_

"_How bad?"_

_Sawyer shifted in the tree and inspected the flesh of his leg. "I don't know. I ain't the doctor."_

_Juliet bit her lip, concerned. "Wrap it with anything you can. To stop the bleeding."_

"_With what? I don't exactly got a stack a Band-Aids in my pocket."_

_She sighed, exasperated. "I don't know. Rip your shirt. You have to stop the bleeding."_

_He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging out of it. "I liked this shirt." He grumbled then ripped the shirt in half. Carefully, he wrapped the fabric around his leg then ripped an edge to tie it tightly. He doubled over, wrapping the second half around then tied it off._

_Juliet looked down, watching as the bear circled them, resilient in its pursuit of a meal. "Eventually, he should get bored right?"_

_Sawyer glanced to her, one corner of his lips tweaked in a sarcastic expression. With his right hand he drew a line across the left side of his chest. "What does it say 'Bear Whisperer' on my name tag?"_

_She glared. "Excuse me for making conversation. I'm trying to think how the hell we're going to get out of this. You don't have to be such a wise ass."_

"_Well less stupid questions and more actual thought would be great."_

"_Right, this coming from the man who's dripping blood onto the head of an enraged bear. At least I'm not acting stupid."_

_He threw a hand in the air, motioning to her in disbelief. "Oh well let me just will the blood to stop flowing." He closed his eyes, face scrunched in mockery. "Is it working yet?"_

_She scoffed and shook her head, maneuvering in the tree so her back was to him. "I hope your head explodes."_

"_Another bright idea. Then more blood will drip on the pissed off bear." He shifted as well, swinging his wounded leg onto the branch, outstretched._

"_Then he'd eat you and I could get away."_

_In separate trees, twenty feet above the jungle floor, they sat and waited with backs to each other. Two hours passed in silence; the bear remained. Juliet glanced to Sawyer, eyes worried and anger evaporated._

_He sat in the tree, eyes closed and head leaning back against the trunk. His skin pale in the setting sunlight and he clung to the branches to keep himself upright._

_Worried, she chewed on her lower lip a moment. "Did the bleeding stop?"_

_His eyes fluttered open and his head lulled to the side so he could look at her. He smiled weakly. "Yeah. Still hurts like fuck."_

_She smiled softly and glanced down to the ground again, searching for the bear. The polar bear lay on the jungle floor in wait, watching them patiently. She sighed in frustration then looked up again at Sawyer. "You have to wash it. So it doesn't get infected."_

"_Don't exactly got a water source up here, Dr. Quinn."_

"_I know," she responded calmly. "I'm going to distract the bear. You get down and run."_

"_Run? Not happenin' sweetheart. I don't think I could run. And I ain't leavin' ya to be bear fodder." He looked down at the bear, calling to it. "Not feedin' time yet, Yogi." He glanced up at Juliet. "If anything, I should distract him so you could get away."_

"_No."_

"_What? I'll just piss on his head."_

_She fought the smile at the vision and shook her head. "I'm not leaving you like that."_

"_Then we're in agreement. We'll keep monkeyin around in the trees til the bastard gets hungry and goes after the boar again."_

"_Boar?"_

"_Yeah, it's what he was eatin' before you wandered into the picture."_

_Rhythmic clicking echoed in the jungle and the bear stood, nervous and anxious. Juliet and Sawyer fell quiet, confused. The clicking grew louder and trees to the west rustled, shook and trembled. The bear ran to the east and into the jungle. A large pillar of smoke moved quickly along the forest floor, winding around trees before disappearing down the path to the north._

_Sawyer blinked, staring northward. "What the hell was that?"_

_Juliet climbed down from the tree. "I have no idea, but I don't want to wait around to find out." She raced towards his tree. "Come on."_

_He slowly lowered himself, unable to put much weight on his wounded leg. She reached up for him, doing her best to support his weight as he dropped to the floor. His leg gave way and he collapsed, wincing in pain. Curses slipped from his lips._

_Juliet crouched down, ducking under his arm to help him stand. "Come on. We gotta go. Now."_

"_Which way?"_

_Juliet pointed to the south. "The beach is that way. It's the way I came from."_

"_Beach huh?"_

"_The salt water will disinfect the wound. It'll be fine. Come on." She helped him, acting as a crutch as they moved quickly through the jungle. His calf seized in pain and Sawyer cried out._

* * *

Sawyer awoke, stirring in the bed. The muscle of his right calf ached, knotted and balled in tension. He winced and flexed his foot. "Fucking … Charlie horse." He sat up, reaching down to rub the calf muscle in an attempt to ease the pain.

* * *

Juliet sat up abruptly in her bed. The television echoed through her room, a man in a forest as zombies tore at his flesh. He screamed in pain. Grumbling her disapproval, she sleepily reached to her bed stand for the remote and turned off the television. Why did she watch those stupid cable horror movies before sleeping?

Closing her eyes a moment, she rubbed her forehead then glanced to the alarm clock to her right. 2 am. She still had a couple more hours of sleep. Sighing in relief and exhaustion, she lay back, curled onto her side and tried to sleep again.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for all the reviews and to everyone reading this story. I've been distracted lately from writing, but I have not abandoned any of my works. Keep the reviews coming and thanks again

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

* * *

Sawyer sat in the front seat of his car, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he stared out at the pavement and parked cars of the parking garage. He parked on the lowest floor about an hour ago and remained in the car, lost in thought. Glancing to the passenger seat, he picked up the white pad of lined note paper and took the pen out of the console at the center of the dashboard.

He rested the pad against the steering wheel, bit the cap off the pen, and spit the cap to the floor of the passenger side amidst the fast food wrappers and soda cans.

_December 2, 2001_

_Dear Juliet,_

_Well, I made it. I'm in DC. Can you fucking believe it? I actually made it. I'm sitting in the parking lot now, figuring out what the hell I'm going to say when I go up there._

_The whole drive out, I kept trying, you know? Trying to find something to do, someone to hire me. It wasn't even the criminal record that bothered people the most, it was the reason for it. Even damn day labor, construction, you name it. Shows you where people's heads are though. They find out that I went to prison for stealing, conning, and I'm a damn leper. I'd have been better off if I murdered someone. Hell, one asshole even told me that._

_They'd rather you kill someone then take money. Can you believe it? Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You know it's bad when a damn Dunkin Donuts won't hire you. What am I going to take the two hundred bucks in your register? Even if it is a couple grand, that's pocket change to what I was used to._

_Last I wrote, I was in Tennessee. And nothing damn changed. I'm thinking maybe I shoulda stayed in California. Maybe tried to work on those migrant farms or something. Hell, those farmers don't care they're hiring illegals. Who my kidding, they'd rather hire them than somebody who stole money. Landscapers said that to me. Can't imagine farmers are different._

_I was thinking of going to New York, but I know what would happen to me there. I got contacts there and I'd probably fall right back into everything. And likely, Hibbs told them everything I did and said. So it's probably a dead end anyway. I'm at my last resort now. Just gotta pray he gives me a chance. Or else, I'm out of damn ideas._

_James Ford_

Sawyer folded up the letter and pulled a blank envelope from the new box sitting on his back seat. Slipping the letter into the envelope, he scrawled the date on the outside then sealed the letter. Opening the glove compartment, he tossed the letter inside on top of the six other letters. He closed the glove compartment then sighed, staring out the windshield again.

Pulling down the driver visor, he looked at himself in the small mirror then checked his teeth. He raked a hand through his hair then slapped the mirror back up into position. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he stepped out of the car.

Sawyer walked into the building, swallowing any nerves as he willed confidence to exude from his manner and his expression. Inside, he leaned over the desk for the receptionist. When she looked up, he smiled brightly for her. "Hi. I'm here to see Ed Mars."

The receptionist glanced up with a calm and almost bored expression. "Is Agent Mars expecting you?"

"No, Ma'am. I'm an old friend. James Ford. I'd really appreciate speaking with him. Is he available? Please."

"I'll check, sir. Please take a seat over there." A long and perfectly manicured fingernail pointed him over to a grouping of chairs.

"Thanks," He said, politely and turned towards the chairs. He wanted to just barge up the stairs to find the man, but likely doing something like that through a Fed building surrounded by the FBI, US Marshalls, CIA and God knew who else, he'd be in prison for the rest of his life. No, he'd wait. He'd be patient and insistent. After all, it was his last chance.

Sawyer waited a half an hour, toes tapping on the floor in his slowly waning patience. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees as he watched the receptionist. Did she even call Mars? He checked his temper, willing the rising frustrations to keep at bay. Within ten minutes, Mars stepped off the elevator and leaned over the receptionist's desk. The woman pointed towards Sawyer with a long manicured fingernail.

Mars glanced up, expression clouded a long moment as he met Sawyer's gaze. He pushed off the desk to walk to Sawyer. Sawyer swallowed any nerves and stood, holding his head high.

"Well well, what have we here," Mars said slyly as he stood before Sawyer. "I heard you got out. Never thought I'd see you again."

"Yeah, well it's your lucky day then I suppose." Sawyer retorted, eyes calm, confident and yet cautious.

Mars slid his hands into the pockets of his suit pants, rocking on his heels a moment. His white dress shirt starched and pressed, his tie tied perfectly – he looked every inch the Fed. "Can't say that it's every day the men I put in prison seek me out for a personal call."

"Yeah, well I ain't exactly happy to see you either."

Mars laughed. "Good that the feelings are mutual then." He crossed his arms, a cocky smirk on his face. "So I'm on lunch. You can either wait here. Or walk down the street to the burger joint. Cuz I'm hungry."

Sawyer nodded and followed Mars out of the building and down the busy street. He remained quiet, contemplating quickly as to the best approach.

Mars glanced to his side at Sawyer and then focused ahead to the destination three blocks away. "So, I'm dying to know. Why are you here looking for me?"

Sawyer clenched his teeth a moment then swallowed his pride when he responded. He masked any defeat or loss in his expression. "I need your help."

"My help." Mars shook his head. "I don't know exactly what you think I can do for you."

"I need a job."

Mars paused outside the small burger joint, hand on the handle for the door. He laughed. "What?"

Sawyer kept his head high and met Mars' gaze. "I said I need a job."

Mars smirked and walked into the restaurant. "And what exactly am I supposed to do about that?"

"You can get me one." Sawyer followed him inside.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you need me."

Mars glanced to his side at Sawyer before looking at the woman behind the cash register. "Hi … uhm I'll have the bacon cheddar burger with fried onions and a side of fries."

The girl smiled politely and entered the order before looking to Sawyer. "And for you, sir?"

Sawyer glanced up at the menu board over the counter. "Uhm … chili dog. And a coke. Thanks."

"I'll have a coke too." Mars said.

The girl nodded. "We have Pepsi, is that alright?"

Both men nodded and Sawyer reached into his back pocket for his wallet, tossing a five dollar bill on the counter. Mars pushed the bill back towards Sawyer. "I got this."

"I don't need favors."

"Actually, I think you do." Mars held Sawyer's eyes. "Take the five."

Resistant, Sawyer searched Mars' eyes, challenging. Finally, he sighed and took the five, shoving it back into his pocket. They waited in silence for the order then walked to a table to sit and eat.

Mars ripped the paper wrapper from his straw and stuck it into the cup. He took a long drink then set the cup down. "Now. Why do I need you?"

Sawyer took a bite of his chili covered hot dog and chewed a long moment before addressing the question. "Because I'm one of the best and I can help you catch others like me."

Mars popped a few fries into his mouth before pointing at Sawyer with one. "In case you forgot, I did catch you."

"But after how long?" Sawyer taunted, as Mars took a big bite of his burger.

"Within months."

"Yeah, after someone came forward. And she knew everything about how to get me. But without her, I'd still have been out there and you'd have been none the wiser. I was doing this shit since I was sixteen. And it took ya twenty somethin' years to stop me. And not even cuz you found me. Cuz ya had help."

Mars wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "That a confession?"

Sawyer smirked. "No. I ain't that stupid. But I'm tellin' you that I can help you. Because I know how they think."

Mars ran his tongue over his teeth in thought, watching Sawyer take another bite of his meal. Tapping his fingers on the table, he picked up his cup to drink. "What makes you think I can even offer you something like that?"

"Pssh, I ain't stupid. I know the government hires all the best crooks and criminals. Hackers, spies, forgers, you name it. And I know the Feds got a white collar division. I can help ya stop them. I can help ya catch 'em." He leaned forward slightly. "Please. Gimme a chance."

"Why?"

"Cuz I can't find anything else." Sawyer slouched back and shook his head, glancing passed Mars. "Christ, I can't flip frozen cow parts at fast food joints. Ya know, if I murdered six people they'da hired me but not when ya steal money. God for fucking bid ya steal money."

Mars smirked. "And you think that I can help you."

"I know that you can help me."

Mars nodded slowly, finishing the last bite of his burger then licked his fingers. "And why would I help you? What do you have to offer me?"

"When we catch these guys, you'll get the credit. You get the promotion, you get the money. You get the catch."

Mars leaned back in his chair, picking his cup off the table to take a slow drink in a blatant display of calm confidence. He knew he held all the cards and made sure Sawyer knew it as well. "And how do I know that you're not going to dick off on me."

Sawyer paused in reflection a moment then sighed and glanced up at Mars. "I guess ya don't. Cuz it ain't like my word means anything. But I ain't gonna dick ya over. I want this. It's why I came to ya."

Mars leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "You do realize, I'd be putting my neck on the chopping block."

"I know. Ya ain't gonna lose yer head though. I promise that."

After another extended pause, Mars stood. "Ten A.M. Tomorrow morning. And this isn't a job offer. I want to see what you can do before I stick my neck out."

Sawyer watched Mars collect his trash and walk away from the table, tossing the garbage in the trash can on his way out the door. Sawyer grinned, picking up his cup to finish his drink.


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: **Thank you all for your patience. I know its taking some time for them to get back together, but its the tension and the time that will make it all worth while when it happens. I promise, you'll love it. As always, delicious reviews are welcome

**Title: **Shattered

**Author: **Crimson Coin

**Rating: **M for language and sexual situations

**Pairing: **Sawyer/Juliet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

**Summary: **Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

* * *

**Note: **I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

Juliet walked down the corridor to her apartment. Expertly dodging a passing couple, she muttered a few choice curses as she opened her purse to search the bag for her keys. She turned the corner; her ankle twisted. Reaching out quickly, she steadied herself against the wall but not before the heel of her pumps broke on one foot. Sighing and shoulders slumped, she looked up at the fluorescent lighting of the hallway shaking her head.

Glancing down, she kicked out of both her heels and crouched down to pick them up. Tucking them under her arm, she continued down the hall and found the keys in her purse. Padding down the hallway, panty hose rubbing the rough carpet, she stopped in front of her apartment door. Using the key, she opened the door and stepped inside.

With a relieved sigh, she closed the door then leaned back against it, eyes closing in a moment of peace. She hung her purse on the closet doorknob then dropped the shoes to the ground, glaring at the one with the broken heel. Walking towards her bedroom, she slowly unbuttoned the form fitting black blouse, shrugging out of it and tossing it into the hamper.

The phone rang.

Muttering to herself, she quickly searched the bedroom for the phone. Pushing aside a pile of papers, she cleared the chair at the small desk and picked the buried cordless phone. She pushed the 'Talk' button and brought the phone to her ear, tucking it between her ear and her shoulder. "Hello."

"Hi, Juliet. What's wrong? You sound upset."

Juliet sighed softly. "Hi, Mom. I'm not upset."

"You sound upset. Don't lie to me. What's going on? I've been calling the last couple of hours and you didn't pick up."

Juliet fiddled with the zipper of her skirt, unclasping the hook then pushing it down. "I was on a date."

A pause.

Juliet smirked and folded the skirt, draping it over a cushioned chair in the corner.

"A date? Well that's wonderful, dear. I'm glad you're finally getting out again. How was it, did you have a nice time?"

"It was alright." Juliet answered, struggling out of the pantyhose.

"Just alright?"

"Well he was very nice. We went out to dinner. It was the first date." She tossed the pantyhose into the laundry basket then walked to her dresser. "But it was alright. I mean he was nice and all."

"What's his name?"

"Rob."

"I'm glad you found a nice man. You deserve to be happy, dear. What does he do?"

She pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top from the drawer. "He's a nautical engineer with the university. I met him at the gym."

"The gym? He's not one of those gym rats is he?"

Juliet chuckled and tugged on her pajama bottoms. "No, he's not a gym rat. Anyway, that was where I was. Why were you trying to call me all night? Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just wanted to remind you about next weekend."

"I remember, Mom. Christmas dinner two weeks before Christmas."

"It's the only time your cousins could come because they're going out west for Christmas."

Juliet smirked and pulled on her tank top. "I know. It just doesn't feel like Christmas. Do you still want me to bring the shrimp cocktail?"

"Yes, please. Make sure it's big enough for twenty."

"Twenty? That's more than usual."

"It is," the answer cryptic before a pregnant pause extended. "Your father will be there."

Juliet stood in silence before the mirror in her bedroom. She looked at her reflection. "What?"

"I said your father is coming. With Sharon."

"Why?"

"Because I invited him."

Juliet sat heavily on the edge of her bed, eyes on the mirror. Shock and hurt overwhelmed her and she remained silent.

"This year, your father and I began speaking again. In fact, he and Sharon came down and Mac and I had dinner with them." Her mother chuckled softly. "I guess it was a strange double date. Seeing your ex husband with his current wife. Going to dinner with my current husband, seeing my ex. It was all very strange but it was good, I think."

Juliet said nothing.

"He asked about you." Her mother continued. "I tried to convince him to call you two but he didn't think you'd want to hear from him after so long."

Juliet pressed her lips tightly together, biting back the swift retort on her tongue.

"I know this is sudden but I thought it would be nice for Christmas. If the family could be together again. Your father and I … well, I know we never saw him but we still loved each other and he loved you girls, he was just … things were a bit difficult."

"Difficult?" Juliet snapped. "For who? Him? He disappeared and married, had another family. And what about us, hmm? Did he ever thing about us?" She shook her head and held up a hand. "No, no he didn't and don't feed me that when you love someone you're not supposed to be together bullshit."

"Juliet, your language!"

"It is. It's absolute bullshit and you know it." Juliet scoffed and stood, raking her fingers through her hair, trembling slightly as they caught in the sticky product. "You know, listening to that garbage is probably what made me the damn mess I am today. And you know something else, Mom? I hate shrimp cocktail!" She closed her eyes, reaching up to press a hand into her eyes.

"Juliet." Her mother soothed. "Juliet, I know this is all sudden and … are you sure you're alright?" her voice hitched slightly with genuine worry. Juliet never had an outburst like that.

"I've had a rough week." Juliet responded cooly.

"What happened?"

She sighed and lifted her head. "It's not important. I'm fine. I have to get up early tomorrow for work and I still have to call Rachel so she knows I'm alive."

"Alright, sweetheart. Have a good night sleep. I'll call you next week ok? And if you don't want to bring shrimp cocktail, that's alright. Bring any hors-dervours you like."

She nodded, despite knowing the action invisible to her mother. "I'll bring shrimp. And I'm fine. Really. Talk to you later."

"Goodnight, dear."

"Night, Mom." Juliet clicked the phone off and dropped her hand to her side as she sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at her reflection. A moment passed and she groaned, falling back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Reaching up, she rubbed her forehead again then pinched the bridge of her nose.

Pushing herself off the bed, she walked to the bathroom, intent on a long hot bath. She sloppily tied her hair up, pinning it off her shoulders as she turned on the faucet and added some relaxation oils to the water. The scent soothed her, though she never would have bought the bath oils on her own. Rachel purchased them for her as a divorce present. Juliet smiled.

Divorce present. Only Rachel would think it appropriate to celebrate with champagne and gifts. At the moment, Juliet could not begrudge her sister the gesture. It was the perfect relief.

Waterlogged and fully relaxed, Juliet emerged from the tub. Plucking a plush towel from the nearby rack, she wiped the water from her body then redressed for bed. She opened the door out of the bathroom into her bedroom, a wave of steam following her from one room to the other. She left the bathroom fan on to help suck out some of the steam.

Sighing heavily, she sat on the bed and glanced at the phone. She hesitated a moment, concerned at the late hour and disturbing her sister. Weighing the consequences of calling versus not calling, she picked up the phone and dialed Rachel's number from memory.

"Hello?"

Juliet smiled at the familiar voice. "Hey, Rach."

"Hey! I've been waiting for you to get home. How'd it go? Tell me everything. I can't believe you were on a date. You haven't been on a date since before the cockroach."

Juliet chuckled. "I know. It was nice. We went to a nice restaurant downtown. I had a chicken dish and he ordered salmon. We had some stuff in common. Never really had that awkward silence thing."

"Good news. Good news."

"I guess so."

"What do you mean, you guess so. You guess what?"

Juliet sighed. "I don't know. I mean it was nice and all it just wasn't thrilling."

"Thrilling? You want thrilling, go to an amusement park. Bungee jumping. Sky diving. That's thrilling. First dates are never thrilling. They're usually awkward, kind of weird, uncomfortable and then the next day you compare it to every other uncomfortable experience. If it's worse than an enema, then I wouldn't go on a second date. If it's on par with the cramps before your period, then it's worth a second shot."

Juliet laughed.

"So on a scale of enema to period to girl's night out. Where was he?"

"Oh God," Juliet rolled her eyes. "I don't know. You can't be serious."

"Totally serious."

"I don't know maybe … well I guess somewhere between period to dealing with the holiday rush at the mall."

"Ok, this is good. It means it was a good first date."

Juliet laughed again, shaking her head. "So I should go out with him again."

"Of course you should. Is he cute?"

"You know, looks aren't everything."

"Oh shut up, of course looks matter. And hell, you lived by that whole looks don't matter crap and look what it got you. The Tuna. No that's an insult to tuna. I like tuna. Anyway, and from what you tell me of Vegas man, he was hot. And that was a good time. So just give in a little and admit that looks matter at least somewhat!"

Juliet sighed and resisted the smile pulling at her lips. "Fine, looks matter a little. But a man's personality can always make him more and more attractive."

"Of course."

"So then yes, Rob is cute and he's kind of funny which makes him even cuter."

"And he has a job. And you said he was nice. Christ, he's already stories above your ex-hagfish. Definitely a second date."

She lowered her hand from her head to the bed. "Alright. I'll see him again. But only if he calls me."

"Oh please. I'm sure he'll call you. And if he doesn't, he's a total idiot."

"Thanks."

"Anytime. Did Mom call you?"

"Yeah."

"What … the fuck."

Juliet chuckled and nodded. "I know. I can't believe it."

"What are you going to do?"

"What choice do I have? We have to be civil at the dinner. But that doesn't mean we have to talk to him."

"I know. It all just sucks though."

"It does. I can't believe it. I mean he has such nerve. What was wrong with us that he didn't want to keep in touch with us? He goes off and gets married then has other kids and now all of a sudden he's reaching out to us? Sorry if I'm not exactly receptive to the whole thing just yet. That doesn't mean I don't know how to act on the day. Just that I'm not happy about it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. I think we just need time to let this whole thing sink in. Wanna go to a movie tomorrow night?"

Juliet paused then nodded. "Alright. That'll be nice and distracting. Plus we can get you out and about. Now let's see, nothing sappy because it gets you crying."

Rachel chuckled. "That's right. Something action. Like guns and shooting and loud booming surround sound."

Juliet laughed. "Like what?"

"Well I saw the previews for 'Behind Enemy Lines'. That sounds good."

"Sounds like a war movie."

"So."

"So, don't you think you should be watching something less violent during your pregnancy?"

"Hey," Rachel huffed. "I don't want to be a bawling mess so Romantic Comedies and Romances are out, and so are dramas. That leaves Comedies and Action movies. Frankly, I'm not in the mood for a comedy. Come on, I want to see this movie."

"Alright, alright. You win. Find the times and let me know."

"Thanks, Jules, you're the best."

"I know."

Rachel chuckled. "You know the old Juliet would have blubbered about that comment and blown it off."

"Good night, Rachel."

"Night, Jules."

Juliet hung up the phone and crawled up the bed, placing the phone back on the receiver on the bed stand. She rolled out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and raked a brush through her hair before returning to the bed. Flicking off the light on the bed stand, she crawled under the covers. Eyes open, Juliet stared at the partially closed door of her closet, mind racing in thought.

She closed her eyes and released a slow steady breath. She focused on her breathing, slow inhales and even slower releases. Her muscles eased into the mattress and she succumbed to the light yet fitful slumber that enveloped her.


End file.
